I’m feeling a bit intimidated - the idea of going home and getting on with the rest of my life is scary.

When I said that to one of my nephews, he told me I sounded like I was in my 20s. (He is operating under the illusion that one evolves from that insecurity after your 30s. Ah, well, he’s only just turned 26.)

Our exchange did make me realize that retirement IS something like a second “coming of age.”

You find yourself entering into a whole new phase of life. Full time paid employment is no longer the centre of your universe. You need to find new goals, motivation, activities - new reasons to get up, get dressed, get active, especially on those inevitable days when your worldview develops a “bump” (or two).

Money no longer works as a primary goal, so you have to find another one, or just stagnate and get OLD… and getting “old” doesn’t “work” for me. My grandmothers both lived to 90, my mother to 89; that makes my genes good for at least another “score and 10.” Back in my mid-40s, I “accepted” being “middle-aged” (with DEEP reservations – I STILL wonder who gets to make that decision). However, I am determined to be DRAGGED into “old age” - kicking and screaming all the way!!!

Okay, Canada, ready or not, I’m coming home in six weeks.