Happy Retirement (aka the Difficulty of saying Goodbye)

Today was the last day of work for one of my co-workers. After 29 years at our place of business, Dawn has bid us all a fond farewell. As any decision to leave your long-time work, the decision could not have been an easy one. After all, one's job is not only a place to earn money to live... it is also a place to see your friends and acquaintances. After all, one is at work for at least 40 hours a week. One likely sees your workmates more often than you see your friends outside of work. Potentially more than you see your extended family. Even, potentially, more than one sees their immediate family. 

I have worked alongside Dawn for the entire 21 years I have worked at this place of business... although not always on the same shift and not with the same days off. I don't recall the first time I met Dawn, but I certainly do remember that she was a giver. A giver of hugs. A giver of candy. A giver of kindness. A guiding light of goodness that one wanted to reciprocate and to give back 10-fold.

Her generosity goes well beyond what I saw at work. After raising her own children, she took over raising her grandchild as her own. I do not know all of the reasons surrounding this decision (nor do I need to), but the strength to take on an infant and raise them to adulthood is difficult for anyone (I give all parents all the credit in the world). But, when one takes on that responsibility with their grandchild, it takes extra strength of generosity to do so. And, by what little I know, that child is a relatively well-adjusted teenager. I can only imagine that is due to Dawn (and, maybe, just a bit, her husband).

However, Dawn has not had it easy. She has had multiple surgeries to her knees. A few years back, she went through cancer treatments. Last year, she broke her elbow due to a fall. She also ended up breaking her nose earlier this year due to another fall. Her strength in bouncing back and coming back was always laudable. Do I have any idea if all of these issues pushed her into making this ultimate decision of retirement? No...  but I cannot imagine that these things were not part of the calculus. 

The unfortunate conundrum of being at the same point of employment for as long as I have been (and for as long as many of this department has been) is that the sheer number of people who have entered your life and have subsequently exited your life is expansive. Many have gone onto bigger and brighter things. Others have left only to come back again. Some have unfortunately left this mortal coil. Others have happily found new pursuits in retirement.

Dawn's retirement is in every way a normal part of life. Which doesn't make it easy to say goodbye. For as long as I have been there, Dawn has been a part of the building. When I go into work tonight, she will no longer be a part of the building. I will not be able to have a calming conversation about nothing of particular importance... or a difficult conversation about the intricacies of living with / going through cancer. 

Dawn: I wish you only the best in your retirement. I hope you do only the things that will make you happy. I wish that you always find your permanent happy spot. 

But, I refuse to say goodbye. For I do not want to lose the joie de vivre that you somehow always have. So, please, don't be a stranger to us. We still need you.