Why I Need a Retirement Mentor

Three-plus decades ago, friend and fellow writer Cathy Madison told me something that has stuck with me ever since: that when you’re self-employed, which I have been since my mid-20s, you never really retire, you just wake up one day and realize all of your clients are gone.

That day hasn’t yet come, but I can see it beginning to dawn. Fewer clients, smaller projects. But I’m not complaining. In fact, I’m largely to blame as I now only say yes to projects I can do from anywhere at any time, without having to schedule calls, log on to online meetings or drive across town for in-person ones. 

Several years back, on the advice of a few older colleagues , I decided to test drive my retirement. I spent one Minnesota winter in Panama. I lived with my sister Diane and her family another winter. And one spring I enjoyed six weeks in Paris courtesy of a friend who loaned me her Latin Quarter apartment.

I also found a few retirement mentors. They, of course, include my fellow Word Sisters, all of whom were a bit ahead of me in embracing retirement. They also include Joe Casey, host of the Retirement Wisdom podcast. Not only did I learn a lot from him and his guests, he hired me to write for his blog, giving me the motivation (and a bit of income) to learn more about retirement—the pros and cons, the ups and downs—than I might have had my own.  

Here are a handful of things I’ve learned that might be helpful to you:

  • Retirement is not a one-size-fits-all journey. Some want relaxed days without a schedule while others are actively working through a bucket list.
  • Money matters, but not always as much as you might think. How much money you have can bolster or constrain the size of that journey. What matters more are your own personal tastes, hopes and dreams.
  • Accountability counts. One of the biggest challenges I and many of my fellow retirees face is staying disciplined. Why do today what we can put off until tomorrow? But I’ve learned the hard way that while leaving things until tomorrow may feel good today, there will eventually be a price to pay. Checking in regularly with friends and family can help. So can having a mentor or goal buddy.
  • Your health: here today, gone tomorrow. Although both my parents died when they were 70—my dad a year after a lung cancer diagnosis, my mom in an instant due to a heart attack—I always thought I’d grow old like my grandmother and die in my sleep some years after celebrating my 90th  birthday. However, since turning 65, I’ve experienced a number of health issues, all minor thankfully, but they’ve made me realize I’m just a diagnosis away from something more serious. So now is the time to make the most of my time.   
  • Staying socially active really does matter. After being unplugged since the start of COVID, I have begun reconnecting with friends in person. A visit with a friend at her house two months ago led to having dinner in a restaurant with another friend, and this eve I’m meeting a third friend for a work-related reception followed by a movie.

Retirement is a significant life transition that requires careful planning and consideration. While it can be tempting to go it alone, having a retirement mentor (or several!) can provide numerous benefits. From personalized guidance and experience-based insights to accountability, emotional support and help avoiding common pitfalls, my mentors have become trusted companions on my retirement journey, one my future self will thank me for.

Being a Matriarch

A big misconception about retirement is that it’s slow-paced and carefree. I’m busier than ever. Although I no longer fret about work problems, other concerns take my attention. Managing family dynamics and planning family get-togethers (like a recent baby shower) are the business of my days—where much of my mental energy goes. What matriarchs do.

‘Matriarch’ sounds grandiose, but the dictionary characterizes us as powerful older women in charge of a family, or female leaders. Respected. My definition is adjacent: we’re strong, influential older women who use our talents and love to strengthen our families, friends, or other groups. Not queens or rulers. Ordinary women. We may be grandmothers—the two roles can overlap—but women don’t have to have grandchildren to be matriarchs.

Examples come to mind readily. One friend juggles half a dozen complicated schedules to plan holiday celebrations. When her adult child fractured an arm, my friend stepped in with meals, groceries, and good cheer. Periodically, she has done daycare and shown up to care for a sick grandchild. Beyond child care and grandmothering, she mediates behind the scenes when adult children are at odds.

One woman regularly drives to another city when one of her married children needs help. She has provided relief post-surgery, offered support after a death in the family, and made getaway weekends possible for her adult children. She is wise and comforting, but above all, she shows up. 

Another matriarch I know focuses on maintaining ties among friends, former students, and godchildren scattered across the country. She writes the notes, makes the calls, sends the gifts, and organizes the visits that sustain those relationships.

For years, I have organized a yearly reunion with my side of the family, fostered connections with my husband’s extended family, and coordinated gatherings with my sons and their wives. In addition to the practical details of all those events is the need to consider participants’ feelings and circumstances. 

Matriarchs’ work doesn’t have to involve a crisis and it is often invisible. We operate in the background to care for and support our people: do shuttle diplomacy among various personalities, advise about jobs, and organize celebrations.

Being in the background means our efforts aren’t always obvious, but when I look around, I see plenty of matriarchs who are enriching lives within their circle of influence. There’s so much we can’t change out in the big world. Our focus is making a big difference in the smaller—but more important—world of family and friends.