Save it, I'm not ready to retire anyway
There might be too much me at the end of my money
Receiving my pension statement at work the other day gave me a bit of a jolt.
It wasn't just the amount I saw that scared me — it was the retirement date that was listed.
How in God's name did I get this close to retirement? I'm not old enough for this stage yet. Am I?
Don't get me wrong: I'm not at a loss for things to do when I do retire. I envision myself on a beach, slathered with sunscreen, my laptop in front of me and a slushy, fruity drink beside me.
That's what I hope for, but I'm not counting on it. In my experience, retirement is a death sentence.
Literally.
My dad retired at 65. He'd worked since he was 17, when he managed to enlist in the Canadian navy at the tail end of the Second World War.
After 25 years, he transitioned to civilian life and a career as the head caretaker at our local high school.
Man plans. God laughs
In February 1992, he retired for the second time. By Nov. 2, he was dead.
He had worked his entire adult life, only to die nine months into retirement.
I'm pretty sure that most people do not automatically expire within a year of retiring. I'm equally sure I'm not the only one who's heard similar stories of retirees who've worked their whole lives, only to expire soon after retirement.
Just last week I heard about a 56-year-old man who died of a heart attack after only six months of "permanent vacation." A friend of mine who'd worked alongside him for 20 years said that his reason for retiring early was that "people seem to retire and die before they can enjoy it. I don't want to be that guy."
It's an uncomfortable reminder of that old saying: "Man plans. God laughs."
The few studies that have investigated the impact of retirement on life expectancy posit that early retirement may be associated with increased mortality.
An August 2016 study by researchers Maria Fitzpatrick (Cornell University) and Timothy Moore (Boston College) found a statistically significant incidence of death soon after retirement for men. One study of Shell Oil workers reported in the British Medical Journal found workers who retire at age 55 are 89 per cent more likely to die during the 10 years after retirement than their peers who continue to work.
Gone fishin'
Why else might folks die soon after hanging up their "Gone fishin'" sign?
How about the couch potato effect?
With no need to commute to work any longer, retirees who don't make a point of being physically active may end up spending their days lounging around in their PJs, watching reruns and snarfling Haagen-Dazs. This may cause them to become out of shape and more vulnerable to a variety of physical ailments, including heart attack and stroke.
Another reason for an expedited shuffling off of this mortal coil might be depression.
The switch from being an active participant in workplace culture — complete with cozy office watercooler gossip sessions and drinks with workmates on Fridays — to extended periods of isolation can't be easy.
Left with oodles of time to contemplate their looming mortality, it isn't a stretch to think that retirement can be a depressing transition. If left untreated, depression can lead to a variety of negative consequences, including substance abuse, risk-taking behaviours and even suicide.
Retirement also brings with it the thrill of worrying about whether you have enough money to last until you transition to the Great Beyond. Research indicates that this anxiety can contribute to higher stress levels and increased mortality.
I'm the same: the closer I get to retirement, the more I worry about whether there'll be too much me left at the end of my money. I figure I have enough saved to allow me to live perfectly comfortably … for about six months. After that, it's anyone's guess. ("Beach bum writer" is a thing, isn't it?)
As with every other stage of life, there are no guarantees. Retirement is what you make of it, no matter how long (or short) the time.
All I know is that when I walk into my place of employment each day, I'm certain that the people there are some of the kindest, funniest, most generous human beings I've been privileged to know. I thank my lucky stars to have landed there.
We laugh regularly and loudly, support each other through tough times and triumphs and count ourselves fortunate to be working together.
They say if you do something you love, you'll never work a day in your life, and maybe that's the answer: if it doesn't feel like work, you never have to retire.
Problem solved.
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