OK Retirees; Give Me Your Best Shot
My oldest boy, Jake, started punching drywall when he could no longer fake-read. In second grade.
He’d memorized all the words his brain could hold. Things got a lot worse before they got better. Dyslexia is an esteem-destroying shitstorm.
My youngest, Noah, spoke in gibberish until just about 4; then he switched to complete sentences. He spent most of his toddler time with an expansive Thomas the Train layout, recreating the scenes he watched on DVD in exacting detail. Today, autism gives him an edge with math, logic and computer programming. And yet he doesn’t have any friends that aren’t online.
These boys arrived when I was 39 and 40. I’ve lived the past 20 years one day at a time. I’ve cut deals and compromised with schools, many who have no ability or budget to deliver more than a cookie-cutter mainstream education.
Jake still carries around some shame. It took weeks to get him to go to the Accessibility office at his college to register as a dyslexic and be allowed use of audio books and extra time in English class. I wonder if he really did it or just told me he did it.
We’re mostly past the days when Noah would discover missing homework in his backpack. Until we caught on, it rode around, to and from school, for weeks while his grades suffered. Finding it brought him true astonishment.
Next year Noah starts college. We’re sending him to the school where his brother attends, because it gives us peace of mind to know we have someone there who could help instantly if needed.
Once that’s done, I’m taking my life back. But this time, I’m doing it differently. Through all of my child-rearing years, I steadfastly figured it out on my own. I thought my situation was unique. I thought I could find all the answers. The result was a massive time suck.
At 58, my status as a Peaceful Retiree is entirely aspirational. I know I will work until 65. I am aggressively maintaining my health and will be OK financially.
While it wasn’t my intention to live the past 20 years day-by-day, that is what has happened. Raising kids who have learning differences meant throwing out plan A, and often plans B, C and D; deciding which hill was worth dying on and when to retreat to fight another day.
If I’ve learned anything, it is that help comes to those who ask for it. So I’m not leaving this to chance. Retirees, I want to hear your wins and your regrets. I’m going after retirement prep with the fervor of a 20-year-old on spring break.
To get there, I’m going to need your support, just like a good recliner. Know-it-alls are welcome. I want to learn from your experience, so I’m putting myself entirely in your capable wrinkling hands. Please submit an article by using this form and let me know your thoughts: https://thepeacefulretiree.com/submit-article. Feel free to put my name (MJ) in the headline or in the article so the editors know it’s me you’re wanting to advise.
My pledge: I’ll take the three best pieces of advice, implement them and report back.
Let’s get ready to ride (but please know that I won’t be buying a Harley).
