The "Retirement" Conundrum

 

The reality of retirement vanished for me the day my divorce was finalized. I didn’t understand the implications at the time, as I was too busy learning how to support four of us on 50% of what five had previously lived with. I needed to replace a home, a car, and unhappily, a different job that paid more.

The concept of living “paycheck to paycheck” was my daily reality – even with child support. My eyes still burn with tears remembering how I had to sell the townhouse I bought for us. As small as it was (my “bedroom” was actually in the unfinished basement), the mortgage, HOA fees, and utilities quickly overwhelmed me. I added a second job, which created some amount of chaos for my teenage children who were already suffering from the loss of security.  The house I intended to buy was even smaller, but at least it was a single family with a yard. But again, only an unfinished basement would serve as an additional bedroom. Still, we had plans.

The night before the closings on the sale of the townhouse and the purchase of the bungalow I got news that our “new” home was actually not available to buy. The title was not clear, the seller had no right to sell the house, but according to law, had 30 days to solve the legal issues. I stood in the empty townhouse, with our dog, and the sleeping bag I had used the night before, in shock.

First came the uncomfortable conversation with my ex-husband, who had agreed to let the kids stay with him for the transition from one home to another. Then came the call to the movers, who already had all our furniture, to not deliver it, but now start to store it.

I got in my car with the dog to go to the closing of the townhouse and realized that I was homeless. Sure, there was some profit from the sale of the townhouse, but that was supposed to be the down payment on the bungalow. Eventually those funds would decrease significantly over the next months, in order to board the dog in a kennel, pay for a room for myself in a motel, and the storage fees for all our belongings. Feeling put-upon for housing his children, their father stopped paying child support without notifying the court, who later on would not look favorably on that. In the meantime, my children and I had no legal addresses or residency. They were in an educational vacuum zone.

Four months later I closed on an even smaller house. This one didn’t have a basement, so my bedroom became a daybed in the living room. The house needed lots of repairs. It was a roof over our heads and a legal address for school, but I don’t think my kids ever called it home. I called it the Money Pit.

Looking back on those years, I recall watching every dime. All of my kids took part time jobs during high school so they could afford things they wanted or needed. Prom clothes, cell phones, sneakers. I found a better-paying job but was still living paycheck to paycheck. Eventually I was back to having two jobs.

The years went on. The layoff of my whole department after 8 years at that “new job” I took. Almost lost the house, terrified to be homeless again. Finally got another full-time job at a huge pay decrease. This job provided a 401K and I did my best to contribute something. The little something then had to be taken out when the crawl space under the house filled with water and I had to have a complete draining and sump pump system installed. I would tell friends they could come visit my newest home improvement under the house.

The years went on. A new car, and car payment. A new roof, a huge dead tree, fixing the kitchen, fixing the bathroom – no luxuries, just basic home maintenance.  Age 60 passed. Age 65 passed, and I started to get social security. I continued to work the full-time job as well as freelancing. For the first time in my life, I did not feel like I was living paycheck to paycheck. Had some vacation time at the Jersey Shore. Visited my adult children who now lived very far away. Built a porch on the back of the tiny house with the understanding that, it is actually home to me, after 27 years of denying it.

At no time have I ever consider being able to fully retire. I still have a mortgage and property taxes to pay.  I dreamed that my freelance work would grow enough that I could at least leave the full-time job. Right now, it looks like I need to sunset that freelance work and get rid of all the books, paperwork, and paraphernalia. I need to empty my house via garage sales and donations. Age 70 is months away. Reality is HERE. There is no more time left for dreaming of “someday” leisure. It ain’t gonna happen.