When a husband retires: a survival guide

“Humor is just another defense against the universe.” – Mel Brooks

It started off as any normal day. I kissed my husband goodbye as he headed off to his office, and I returned to the kitchen to have coffee and read the paper. I remember thinking of what a nice weekend we’d had. Saturday and Sunday spent together was the perfect mix of alone and couple time. Today I had the entire day to do exactly as I pleased starting with cranking up the stereo (yes, we still have one) really loud with music he doesn’t like.

Around 5:30, I begin dinner preparations, eager to hear how his day went, complete with all the office gossip. We’d have dinner, watch a little TV; he’d fall asleep on the couch by 7:45. The perfect ending to a great day, or so I thought…

“Honey, HR called me in this afternoon. They’ve asked me to take an early retirement. Friday will be my last day. Isn’t that great? Now we can spend more time together!”

Remember where you were the first time The Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show? It’s a memory you’ll never forget. And for me, this was that moment.

Let me say I love my husband, but, as Tina Turner so beautifully asked wives of retired men living in active adult communities throughout the United States, “What’s love got to do with it?”

Suddenly someone has entered my ordered, structured life, and without my invitation.

When did his voice become so loud, and what’s with the cereal slurping? If I wanted the newspaper read aloud to me in the morning, I’d buy a Siri iPhone. For those who don’t know what this is, it’s a phone that streams music, news, sports, and talk over approximately 100 channels via satellite to the continental US. In other words, very annoying!

Within days, it was apparent that the house we had only recently purchased and thought was perfect for us wasn’t large enough. We needed an additional 1,500 square feet, with a separate entrance and mailing address, and it was imperative that it be completed by Friday of this week. Suddenly the Pentagon didn’t contain enough rooms to maintain any form of marital harmony.

I entertained the fantasy of purchasing the Marina model that was for sale next door. We could build a porch that would connect the two homes, his and hers so to speak. Surely Pulte, Del Webb, and The Modification Committee would see the urgency of this situation and approve these plans. I gave that idea up when I realized I’d have to clean two more toilets.

I went to bed early that night, and as luck would have it, Turner Classic Theatre was featuring “Dial M for Murder.” At about 2 a.m., I switched channels only to come upon Discovery Network’s “I Almost Got Away With It.” I enjoy looking pulled together with earrings, necklace, shoes, handbag, and often a scarf. I’ve never attended a Premier Jewelry party I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed. I guess a felony charge and incarceration just wasn’t going to work for my life.

I began to notice men appearing at Meijer, where traditionally women gather to shop, have a manicure, and enjoy conversation over coffee and a donut. The only men I was used to seeing wore white smocks and worked in frozen foods.

Panera Bread, a popular Edgewater ladies luncheon spot, suddenly had men taking up our seats and slurping their soup. Most were speaking loudly into their cell phones just adding to my annoyance.

Of course, I’m overwhelmed with feelings of intense guilt. Is this the way for a good wife to be thinking about her husband? He’s worked hard all his life. Isn’t he entitled to relax, watch reruns of Jeopardy, and play computer solitaire?

Ladies who have lived through this experience years earlier were able to dispense advice. “You’ll get used to it” and “It’s like having a second honeymoon” were popular refrains.

It’s been several years since D-Day. We continue to work on “making the adjustment.” Sometimes my wonderful husband takes me to Panera for lunch. I’ve told him time and time again they don’t serve burgers and fries, but he continues to order them. Lord, help me to accept the things I cannot change…

So when you see me in Barnes and Noble looking at self help books, don’t ask me how the honeymoon is going!

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