On the road again
The plans were taking shape, the spread sheet filling with details of mileage, events, sites, and reservations. We were joining our Chicago travel buddies (SOAR) on a road trip to Louisville (distilleries) and then on to Nashville (music), celebrating the opening of society following 18 months of COVID isolation. This would be cathartic, our group of six now down to five.
We had watched the COVID numbers decrease as the vaccine took effect in millions of people around the world. We were hopeful. Society was opening up. SOAR was ready to hit the road and celebrate Life and friendship in honor of Larry.
We managed these past 18 months patiently and bravely, meeting via Zoom, limiting travel until safe. Tragically, Larry succumbed to COVID, leaving us numb and heart-broken.
Reminding us that death and disease do not consult our calendars, another good friend, healthy and robust 15 months ago, quickly became thin and weak because of non-COVID health conditions. And glioblastoma took Frank’s life.
The vaccine holdouts surprised us, allowing the deadly Delta variance to take hold. While the numbers rise dangerously, we are more than a little annoyed at people who refuse the vaccine out of ignorance, jeopardizing the health and quality of life of their neighbors.
Our plans have been scrapped. We are willing to travel, but a trip to Nashville for a group of music lovers anticipating extraordinary music in crowded bars would be wasted. We are not willing to take the risk. We will consider something more isolated.
Restlessness overwhelms me
I have always been restless. I recall many times in my life when I felt as if I were waiting, shackled by health, family, or social norms that restricted me. Miraculously, opportunities offered fulfilling experiences to carry me through the years.
RestlessRetirement.com was born from an internal drive to fill my retirement not with busy-ness but with meaningful endeavors. Although the isolation of 2020 offered me opportunities to stretch some creative wings, I remain restless, as if I am to begin something new, as if my work of 2020 was a holding pattern.
What if there is nothing new?
I need to keep my finger on the patience button a little longer.