WordSisters

Author: Ellen Shriner

  • 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.

  • Liminal Space

    Wednesday and Thursday in Minneapolis were a liminal space. Tuesday was in the low 90s and sunny. I welcomed my book group into our air-conditioned house instead of the baking patio, and I served lemonade pie, a frozen confection which suited summer’s last gasp.

    During the night cool air crept in. No storm signaled it, but Wednesday dawned in the low 60s. The overcast day felt like a pause. A chance for our bodies to sit with the transition. Acknowledge and accept it. We were no longer part of the humid blanket of summer but not yet into the cool sunny days of fall.

    So often we forget that we’re more than walking brains. We tend to ignore our animal nature. But some deep instinct responds to the season’s change–the later sunrises and earlier sunsets. The coming cold and darkness of winter. Beyond the sudden urge for apples instead of peaches and soups instead of salads is the emotional shift many of us feel. An awareness that feels metaphorical as well as physical.

    Some are sad that summer’s over and won’t return for nine months. Others are relieved and energized by the sense of a new beginning–it’s a new season and time for new habits, new possibilities. This year, have seemed unsettled by the season’s abrupt change. I’ve sensed an undercurrent of unnamed emotions.

    Today is sunny and in the mid-70s. Those underlying instincts are forgotten. Dissipated like the heavy cloud cover that pinned us in place on Wednesday and Thursday. Many have returned to being busy walking brains. But our bodies remember.

  • What’s Your Approach?

    Earlier this month, I celebrated the 8th anniversary of my retirement at 61. Occasionally, I have floundered, but I’m happy with the shape it’s taken. Many of my friends are retired or nearing it, and I’ve observed a range of philosophies:

    Nonretirement – For several writers and artists I know, retirement looks like slowing down, not quitting. They have fewer paid jobs but they’re still working. Or they have a big project underway which might be published or shown later. 

    No schedule, no plans – Some people prefer the freedom to choose their activities day by day. For years they were yoked to a commute and an office. They feel they’ve paid their dues and earned the right to do whatever appeals to them on any given day. They hate the idea being locked into a schedule and resist planning too far ahead. I’ve noticed more men choosing this style.

    A bit of structure – These retirees prefer several days of planned activities but want lots of free time, too. Their schedule might include workouts or sports, socializing with friends, and weekly volunteer gigs. They also value unscheduled time and are careful not to pile too many events into one day. This approach often appeals to women. I belong to this camp.

    Always busy – This group is eager to do everything. All the time. For as long as possible. While the first three groups like to travel, these retirees travel even more. They’re adventuresome and willing to try whatever looks fun, which could be a class, a biking/hiking/kayaking group, a tour or whatever. They’re an enthusiastic bunch and want to be sure they do it all before time runs out.

    Aimless – Some people struggle with retirement because they miss the structure work provided (even though they resented the job at times). They don’t know what to do with themselves. With so much free time, their days can feel empty. They have trouble getting projects accomplished because there’s always tomorrow.

    Not loving it – Some retirees really don’t like retirement. Often, they are accomplished people who were well-respected in their field. Work provided focus and was integral to their identity. Retirement feels like a loss. The activities they try are pleasant but feel like make-work—time-fillers. They want their pursuits to be meaningful and have purpose, but they haven’t found fulfilling interests yet.

    Combo – A person new to retirement may sample several approaches before finding a satisfying mix. Shifting away from paid work can be as confusing and life-changing as starting a career. Many times, people aren’t sure what they want or what will feel like time well-spent.

    So much of a person’s approach to retirement depends on their temperament. What do they value most—freedom, balance, drive, accomplishment? Are they self-motivated or do they need outside structure in their days? 

    What has worked for you? Or how do you envision your future retirement?