Our First Year of His Retirement Let me catch you up to the first week of June 2012. Lonnie left his job for the last time on March 28 at noon. His first official day of retirement was April 1. No fool’in. March 28 was a Thursday. We always knew he was going to retire on that Friday and we were going to take our dogs to a Bed and Biscuit resort on the Central Coast. He came home a…
OK, OK…he is out washing and waxing my car! Again! Since April 1 it has been the cleanest it has ever been in the entire 10 years I have owned it. Not complaining…just saying. He just loves a clean car. I, however, usually wait until the windshield is obscured by dirt. My friend (a man) at work said about me once. “just like every other woman I know (her car) is filthy and empty.” He said that through clenched teeth…
After three full days of volunteering for one of my favorite non-profits, I was ready to relax with a glass of wine, a bucket of hot water to soak my screaming feet, and some peace and quiet in my backyard. I filled a pan with warm salt water, got a big glass of Pinot Grigio and headed outside to sit on a wonderfully comfy chair in our new patio set. As the bottom of the stemmed frosty glass headed toward…
This isn’t about retirement really. Lonnie is off to his brother’s house in Weed for a couple of days. I have the house to myself and this day, after Father’s Day, it is quiet and lonely. Father’s Day is the early beginning of a trifecta of grieving for me. Some years it is not so bad, some years it is. This year it is bad. My dad, as well as Lonnie’s dad, never got to retire. They both died young…
I didn’t really think anything was that wrong. However, I started losing weight…I noticed that I was stronger.
In January I started in earnest to lose weight. My thoughts were:
I am going to be married to a retired guy and I really didn’t want to look the part.
I was throwing a huge retirement party for named guy and really wanted to rock a dress. I didn’t want to have to wear a pastel chiffon mother-of-the-bride dress with one inch orthopedic dress shoes.
I knew there would be no dress rocking at my current weight and size.
So there I started. Amazing. Very low carbs, protein, no wine (that was hard) and lots of walking and finally a gym membership. In three months, just in time for dress purchase, I had gone down from size 12 to 6. Not only a single digit size…but a low one at that. The smallest size I have ever been in my entire adult life. Being a 6X as a little kid doesn’t count. The first size I remember being and I also remember my mom hating that I was that size. And being my mother…she never held back telling me or anyone else within ear shot of her disappointment.
Two weeks ago we had a presentation at a work event where there was a group photo taken 12 months ago. Me on the end, head tipped down, hands folded in front, shirt tail out and ill fitting khaki pants. Wow. I was just shocked. I had seen the photo when it first was taken and I thought…hey I look pretty good. Not!
So compared to the photo taken last week of skinny arms sticking out of my orange safety vest (required for my day job) and no ass in my skinny jeans makes me smile.
This thin business is crazy. I know I have lost a lot of weight the scale and my wardrobe tell me so. I no longer own one piece of clothing from last year. Everything was sent off to the resale or thrift stores. However no matter what the pants’ size tag says, I see myself as the same shape and size of 7 months ago. The mirror won’t cut me a break. Although I have had several folks not recognize me, I still see my old self staring back at me in the bathroom.
Being this size is so different for me. I have new sense of self esteem. I really don’t like taking crap from anyone any more. And I am not doing it. I find myself saying no a lot. Also asking for things too. This bolstered confidence is great from my end. Maybe not so great to those getting the nos.
Anyway, it is great and I am loving it. I am not going back to the old me. I will keep building my strength and be happy although this new me is 57 years old…at least I didn’t wait another 10 years to make this happen. It would have been great at 27 years…but we can only grow when we are ready.
Dress appropriately rocked for the party. 4 inch silver sparkly heels completed the outfit. By the reactions of the folks at the party…the dress worked. (see About LeeAnn) Yes, one guy came up to me and looked me right in the eye and asked where he could find Lonnie’s wife. It was great to say, “that’s me…who the hell are you?”