mahjong

Retirement Holds Both Joy and Sorrow

…where my soul plays and rests

Retirement holds both Joy and Sorrow

Sunday. July 27, 2025

As I started moving through the feelings of being a newly retired teacher after 37 years, I started thinking putting the metaphorical pen to paper might help me process this new phase of my life.

As a newly retired teacher, emotions of joy, sorrow, melancholy and even a mourning of sorts, are alive in me. For 37 years, this day has been the Sunday before I, along with thousands of public school teachers, co-workers, and friends, head back to school.

However this year hits differently. Stressful dreams, like clockwork have begun. I wake up and for a split second my thoughts begin to race with the usual stressors accompanied by twinges of excitement, when suddenly I remember… there is no first day, not this time, not this July. Becky, I think to myself, you aren’t going back, you’re retired.

I feel confident many, if not most, believe both relief and excitement are the only emotions that follow.

I understand that notion. I will no longer live in the daily stress of planning and adjusting my sails for each class, while trying to meet the needs of my young students, who are sometimes struggling, emotional, eighth graders. No more planning, grading, meetings, emails, new programs, paperwork, rude behavior, helicopter parents, observations and losing sleep over 100+ teens weekly, sometimes daily, for 10 months out of the year. Collapsing on the couch to fall sleep after arriving home with little left to give will surely end; unlike teaching, the job that never ends.

It does bring a sense of relief coupled with excitement for what is to come. But today, and no doubt many days and moments moving forward, I feel sad, more specifically, melancholy. I grieve the end of being Mrs. Jones, “Nonna Becky,” and “Mrs. J”; a friend and mentor to co-teachers and students, alike. I anticipate missing the parts I love most; building relationships, loving, mentoring, and teaching children on the best of days, while walking with them through difficult ones, when we often needed each other the most.

This transition is more than leaving the classroom; it’s saying goodbye to that part of me and allowing myself to feel sadness and grief while also embracing the future and invitation to explore new experiences with excitement and joy!