The Talk: A Convincing Discussion About Senior Moves
May 6, 2024Things That Bring Joy
July 24, 2024It seems to defy common sense – spending more when you’re earning less – but that’s what happened when I made the elderhood transition. Just thinking about it all takes me back 20 years, when I was a senior director, bucking for a coveted VP job.
I was heading home from one of those marathon business trips. After two connecting flights, I was on a 3-hour layover at JFK. I thought the trip had gone well. My corporate keepers should be happy, or they better be. I needed that bonus check to cover this spring’s tuition payment. Exhausted, I ducked into the airport bar to kill some time.
There we were with our carry-ons, all jammed around the bar. The bartender appeared bored when he turned down the volume on a boisterous professional wrestler. Competing for duplicity, the next TV over was showing FIFA football.
My third beer seemed to revive me, and I became aware of a woman sitting next to me. She looked to be in her late 60s. She took a quick peck from her brandy alexander, compulsively rearranging her coat every so often. Notwithstanding the barroom scrum, it was a lonely Friday night as we soaked in the humid ambience of the Big Apple.
Neither of us was looking to talk, but we started talking anyway. Pretty sure we’d never see each other again, we got into some pretty personal things. It was a confessional, without a priest.
I rambled a bit about my job, inciting involuntary pangs of anxiety to launch out of my intestinal vortex toward my cerebrum. I was worried that the veneer of perfection I projected at work was cracking. If I slip, my carefully constructed life would fall apart. The kids wouldn’t be able go to school anymore. My wife would think marrying me was the biggest mistake she ever made.
Thank you god for inventing beer.
My fellow traveler looked at me with recognition but with scant compassion. From a submerged place in her own head, she retrieve her own story with effort. Her hands shook.
In short, her son had died. It was eight months now. She had separated from her husband.
Numb to the world, she didn’t think she would ever smile again.
We each took another sip of our drinks. The soccer crowd cheered a goal, and in the commotion, she seemed to animate, kind of like a Macy’s parade balloon filling with helium. When she was fully inflated, I heard her simply to me, “This will pass. Everything is going to be all right.”
My inner gremlins were ready to dispute this wanton display of optimism. I have bills, tuition, and debt. I need my bonus, but I don’t think they like me. They’re out to knock me off the fast track. I’m slipping, can’t hang on. Once I fall, my abject worthlessness will be evident to everyone. Our family will be destitute, probably homeless. The bartender brought her another brandy alexander, and she oracled. “Everything will get cheaper.”
It was a first-class non-sequitur, and she continued. “You won’t need new clothes or expensive neckties. Insurance gets cheaper. You will need less food. Your children will get jobs of their own and pay their own cell phone bills.”
Her transcendent pronouncements continued. “At some point, you will lose this job you’re so proud of. It will happen. All jobs are temporary. When your income goes down, your taxes will go down more, and your kids will move into their own homes. You won’t need the big house. And you’ll get on Medicare.” She smiled. “Say goodbye to JFK.”
It was time for our flights. As we gathered our things, our former selves took over again, and we seemed to forget what we had just shared. Just killing time.
After The Transition
For the next decade or so, I thought I had forgotten about that night until I started making the transition to the senior life. As I went through layers of change, everything did get cheaper. But it was a trip getting there.
The best way I can tell you about the money part is using my old PowerPoint skills. That big circle on the left was my spending when I was in corporate. That smaller circle is what I spend now, 70% less. Social security, savings and my little retirement job provides ample sustenance. I didn’t see that one coming.
In the “good old days,” about 90% of my spending was on taxes, mortgage and insurance. The rest went for kid stuff – clothes, tuition, lessons, and cell phones. There wasn’t a whole lot left for disposable spending, what I call my “Me Money.”
Those big expenses are mostly gone now. We still buy things for the kids and grandkids, but now it’s a treat, not an obligation. We can spoil them with a new toy or help out with a downpayment, but that’s a lot easier to swallow than tuition payments and books for a 4-year college. I make a lot less, but I have more to spend.
Like most anything, you’ve got to organize for it. To get to this promised land, you should get rid of things you don’t need. Cash in your house. You’ll be glad you did.
I never did see that woman again. I figure that she had been deputized by some angels who wanted to tell me something: everything gets cheaper. I no longer pay $175 a year for my gold card, but I think I finally understand the second side of Abbey Road, and I just got my first hole- in-one. Drinks for the house!
Make Less. Spend More is the second of a three part series about the transition from adulthood to elderhood where Darby Hanush discussed changing spending and savings habits. The first installment Me and The Daughter discussed shifts in how the family makes decisions. The last article – Health Care Heroics focuses on managing medical treatments during the golden years.
About Operation Relo
Operation Relo (Relo) provides a comprehensive downsizing services for families with elders.
Relo gets willing families transitioned by conducting senior moves; preparing homes for sale;
and relocating household possessions through online selling, estate sales, donation, and
disposal. Contact us at (877) 678 – 7356 (RELO), [email protected] and
www.OperationRelo.com
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