by Elizabeth
(West Virginia)
It has been 18 months since my retirement. I spent 37 years as a real estate broker, working with new people almost every day.
Time finally caught the up with me and I had to make a decision as to the next chapter in my life. My house became too much for me to handle alone and my mobility was not what it used to be.
My youngest daughter encouraged me to move here to West Virginia. The house went on the market and quickly sold, giving me a small nest egg. I still drive my own car and thought it would be easy to reestablish may identity once I was settled. I would find volunteer work and make new friends.
Forward 18 months, it seems an 83 old senior who walks with a cane is not top choice when it comes to volunteer jobs.
The local senior center is great for those who play cards or have financial worries. I keep busy knitting for charity, reading, studying with the Great Courses and writing snail mail letters to my pen pals. My daughter and her husband have been wonderful in making me comfortable in my new surroundings, but I sorely miss the contact with people.
I won't give up searching, but keep waiting for the Golden years to kick in.
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