In my 40s, I started tithing, e.g. 10% of my gross income to charities every year. I had a toddler at the time. I wrote about the decision and practice for a few magazines, including my college alumni magazine. I even made speeches about it. And did a couple of workshops for children and taught them the word eleemosynary. I would ask them to draw a picture of a heart and then fill it with words describing things they cared about. I taught them how to research the charities that helped the things they cared about. And had them take this home to their parents for a dinner conversation! I even calculated—for the region in which I lived—how much good the local non-profits and religious institutions could do—if every one made that choice. For those that couldn’t afford it, I’d advocate giving 10% of your TIME as a volunteer. I granted my employees 4 hours a week for volunteering somewhere. Just like a 401k or a savings account or college savings, it was easier if it came “off the top,” or as a regular bill. I used Network for Good to set up monthly donations to a handful of 501c3s that aligned with my values. Now that I’m retired, I still do the 10% but at a lower amount as my income is about half of what it was during my peak earning years. I now use a donor advised fund and, when I take RMDs, will dissolve that and used QCDs instead. Taking care of our species matters to me. Whether by giving money or time, it matters.
Now that my husband and I have liberated ourselves from all real estate and travel full-time, we have definitely had this conversation a few times. He is 77, I am 72. And, his family has said (out loud) they are glad he met and married me (14 years ago now). He is a “what me, worry” happy person for whom the details of life matter little. I am the planner and financial manager. His way of being has made my life immensely richer. I was lonely in my first marriage. But I now experience happiness in a way I never thought possible—all due to my current husband. Division of labor is all well and good but we are deliberate in making sure each of us have the skills we need to survive without the other. We have each other’s key account passwords, etc. Our wills, etc are updated. Every month we review our budget and he knows how I organize all our airline tickets, temporary rentals and travel insurance. We annually have a 90 minute session with our financial planner at Schwab (free to us due to our balance with them) and I routinely share our Boldin plan and “chances for success”. We each have 1 grown child and have an agreement about how our wills need to be changed when one of us dies to be fair to them both. If I go first, he would likely move to NC where his sister lives. We also have a few close friends who live there. If I’m left alone, I would seriously consider moving to Cuenca, Ecuador or another country with low living expenses and good healthcare. Or I might just get an apartment (or CCC) in the Puget Sound area—the only place I’ve ever lived that felt like “home”. My son jokes that he knows I would never move in with him as I cannot tolerate Florida’s humidity. Thanks for the thoughtful post—it just provoked another thoughtful conversation between my husband and me. Live your life. Live your life!
95 countries here. AND for five years we have been full-time travelers (we own no real estate). It so depends on the kind of trip you want? And how you want to spend your time? Our most memorable trips in the past 5 years:
*for sheer beauty, lots of walking, great food, deep diving into history and serenity—Lake Como, Italy
*for unique environment, perpetual spring, great food and inexpensive—Cuenca, Ecuador (and the currency is the US$
*for snorkeling, 85 degree weather and long walks on the beach—Bonaire
*for visits to a region’s great cities? A cruise through the Baltics or Japan, the British Isles or the Mediterranean, staying at least a week extra at embarkation or debarkation port
*for a more exotic (and expensive) iconic locaton? the Galapagos Islands, Machu Pichu, or the Antarctic What ever you end up doing, I recommend SLOW travel. Give yourself time to know a place before moving on.
Oh, a silver lining? Plenty of time for much more regular and inventive sex. Meds for his prostate cancer have slowed us down now but they HAVE kept him alive for 13 years of Stage 4 now so I can’t complain about the switch to heavy cuddling and ocassional voyeurism). TMI? The other great thing about retirement and old age? Perfecting the art of not caring about what other people think. I’m still mastering it.
My husband retired due to a series of lay-off when he was 62, a full 12 years before I did. As my second marriage was to a happy person, he was a role model for retirement. As I struggled with my job and health (in my last years of working before I quit, largely due to regaining some control and self-respect in my life), he quietly waited, “Anytime you’re ready, I am,” he would smile as he patiently listened to the regular indignities and impossible situations I managed. My god, I even scheduled radiation for my breast cancer at 7 am a 1 hour’s drive away from my work so I could still put in a full day. In retrospect I was certifiable.
*If you CAN swing it financially, my knees (and other parts) are SCREAMING at you to do it at early as you can. The sheer bulk of the medications that keep me alive take up 1/3 of my full-time traveling suitcases (I’m 72 and didn’t retire until I was 67) Get a set it and (largely) forget it financial plan you can manage with a sense of peace. *AND the absolute best retirement advice I listened to? Do absolutely NOTHING for six months. No consulting gigs, no volunteer work. Take the red ball off your nose and put it in a corner. Let it deflate. Figure out the things YOU want to say YES to. I got a cottage by the water, took long walks WITHOUT my phone, made lists and wrote poetry, for goodness’ sakes. And we came up with slow travel for as long as we got the knees and minds to go it. But that’s us. You be YOU. I read the book that concluded that happiness comes when we learn from the experience of others. READ about others have retired—successfully and not. Don’t make those mistakes. Don’t be one of those “touch the stove” retirement toddlers!
Ahhh, my Shakespeare quote was Freudian, triggering the memory I have forgotten when I learned to be happy. That of being not to be. In the immersive Camus/Sartre teen years, I attempted suicide 4 times. Sheer will and intentional meaning-creation via existentialist writer Colin Wilson kept the instincts at bay until my undiagnosed bi-polar disorder was revealed 20 years later, followed by successful therapy and meds. The stitches in my wrist are all that remind me now.
When I was 7, I wanted to be a blonde named Judy and drive a red convertible. I had curly red hair and everyone misspelled or mispronounced my name. While the first two never happened I owned enjoyed my fair share of sports cars over the years—mostly stick shifts. A 1970 yellow MG Midget, 1985 Datsun B-210 and a 1998 VW EOS, After college I wanted to be a high school history teacher because I had godawful history teachers in hs. I applied to every county in Virginia to pay back my teachers’ scholarship without a single job offer despite a 3.8 GPA. Why? I forgot to learn how to coach football (though I DID have the credits to coach drama). Every single social studies teacher then was a boys’ sports coach. Which says to much about the state of civics today. Then, I decided to learn about the stock market and when the stupidest young jocks at the Bethesda Merrill Lynch office were getting jobs at $25% while I was making $6K as a sales assistant, I studied and took my Series Vii exam. I passed the math portion with a nearly perfect score and failed the Personality test. I was told I wasn’t aggressive enough to be a stock broker. Two years later, I got a check for $300 in the mail, the result of a class action suit brought on behalf of every woman who had ever failed. The test was judged to be gender biased. Then, I decided to fall back on my acting and moved to New York to trip the lights fantastic. Only to find out that every girl at every audition had had leads in all her high school and college plays. And had better teeth and no sibilant S. I was bursting with pride to get a callback (a 2nd audition) only to discover that every single girl had long, red hair. Then I became an exotic dancer during the pipeline in Alaska, then New York and other places, earned a shit-town of money, moved in with my bf, got a CETA job for a historical society that turned into 7 professional jobs, including four CEO positions, over 43 years helping artists, scholars, humanities and culturals organizations. Then, my dream, was to marry a happy person (as opposed to an alcoholic, Marxist critical theorist, may he RIP) and sell everything I own and travel the world slowly. Which I have now done for 5 years (well, the relationship and subsequent happiness is 18 years old now). Now, like many of my septuagenarian+ peers, I dream of a relatively pain-free aging and death where all my scores are settled and I dream in peace. “To sleep, perchance to dream: I, there’s the rub. For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.”
I got suckered in 1979 with the promise of a camera. After making a 5 hour drive, my husband and I were put in a hot room with a promo video featuring George Kennedy. It was $3,000 and I paid $56 a month for YEARS. Along with the RCI membership. My husband joked about the $3000 camera for all the years of our marriage. But there is a silver lining—I actually used it to trade in 1986 and every year thereafter. Its existence forced me to take vacations I may never have taken. To Florida, to Hawaii, England, the Caribbean, Spain. Finally in 2019, I went to the actual timeshare I bought (I had never even seen it since I bought it) with my brother as he is a big skier. We went again the next year. He enjoyed the week so much, I gifted it to him. 40 years of shame—SOLVED!
At least you didn’t buy the lots in Florida advertised right next to the sea monkeys (yeah, I bought them too). I DID always want to go to Palisades Park, NJ because of those ads.
Comments
In my 40s, I started tithing, e.g. 10% of my gross income to charities every year. I had a toddler at the time. I wrote about the decision and practice for a few magazines, including my college alumni magazine. I even made speeches about it. And did a couple of workshops for children and taught them the word eleemosynary. I would ask them to draw a picture of a heart and then fill it with words describing things they cared about. I taught them how to research the charities that helped the things they cared about. And had them take this home to their parents for a dinner conversation! I even calculated—for the region in which I lived—how much good the local non-profits and religious institutions could do—if every one made that choice. For those that couldn’t afford it, I’d advocate giving 10% of your TIME as a volunteer. I granted my employees 4 hours a week for volunteering somewhere. Just like a 401k or a savings account or college savings, it was easier if it came “off the top,” or as a regular bill. I used Network for Good to set up monthly donations to a handful of 501c3s that aligned with my values. Now that I’m retired, I still do the 10% but at a lower amount as my income is about half of what it was during my peak earning years. I now use a donor advised fund and, when I take RMDs, will dissolve that and used QCDs instead. Taking care of our species matters to me. Whether by giving money or time, it matters.
Post: Saving and Giving
Link to comment from June 28, 2025
Now that my husband and I have liberated ourselves from all real estate and travel full-time, we have definitely had this conversation a few times. He is 77, I am 72. And, his family has said (out loud) they are glad he met and married me (14 years ago now). He is a “what me, worry” happy person for whom the details of life matter little. I am the planner and financial manager. His way of being has made my life immensely richer. I was lonely in my first marriage. But I now experience happiness in a way I never thought possible—all due to my current husband. Division of labor is all well and good but we are deliberate in making sure each of us have the skills we need to survive without the other. We have each other’s key account passwords, etc. Our wills, etc are updated. Every month we review our budget and he knows how I organize all our airline tickets, temporary rentals and travel insurance. We annually have a 90 minute session with our financial planner at Schwab (free to us due to our balance with them) and I routinely share our Boldin plan and “chances for success”. We each have 1 grown child and have an agreement about how our wills need to be changed when one of us dies to be fair to them both. If I go first, he would likely move to NC where his sister lives. We also have a few close friends who live there. If I’m left alone, I would seriously consider moving to Cuenca, Ecuador or another country with low living expenses and good healthcare. Or I might just get an apartment (or CCC) in the Puget Sound area—the only place I’ve ever lived that felt like “home”. My son jokes that he knows I would never move in with him as I cannot tolerate Florida’s humidity. Thanks for the thoughtful post—it just provoked another thoughtful conversation between my husband and me. Live your life. Live your life!
Post: Going it Alone by Dennis Friedman
Link to comment from June 21, 2025
95 countries here. AND for five years we have been full-time travelers (we own no real estate). It so depends on the kind of trip you want? And how you want to spend your time? Our most memorable trips in the past 5 years: *for sheer beauty, lots of walking, great food, deep diving into history and serenity—Lake Como, Italy *for unique environment, perpetual spring, great food and inexpensive—Cuenca, Ecuador (and the currency is the US$ *for snorkeling, 85 degree weather and long walks on the beach—Bonaire *for visits to a region’s great cities? A cruise through the Baltics or Japan, the British Isles or the Mediterranean, staying at least a week extra at embarkation or debarkation port *for a more exotic (and expensive) iconic locaton? the Galapagos Islands, Machu Pichu, or the Antarctic What ever you end up doing, I recommend SLOW travel. Give yourself time to know a place before moving on.
Post: Trips in your “go go” years?
Link to comment from June 14, 2025
Oh, a silver lining? Plenty of time for much more regular and inventive sex. Meds for his prostate cancer have slowed us down now but they HAVE kept him alive for 13 years of Stage 4 now so I can’t complain about the switch to heavy cuddling and ocassional voyeurism). TMI? The other great thing about retirement and old age? Perfecting the art of not caring about what other people think. I’m still mastering it.
Post: When the Spreadsheet Gets Real
Link to comment from June 7, 2025
My husband retired due to a series of lay-off when he was 62, a full 12 years before I did. As my second marriage was to a happy person, he was a role model for retirement. As I struggled with my job and health (in my last years of working before I quit, largely due to regaining some control and self-respect in my life), he quietly waited, “Anytime you’re ready, I am,” he would smile as he patiently listened to the regular indignities and impossible situations I managed. My god, I even scheduled radiation for my breast cancer at 7 am a 1 hour’s drive away from my work so I could still put in a full day. In retrospect I was certifiable.
Post: When the Spreadsheet Gets Real
Link to comment from June 7, 2025
*If you CAN swing it financially, my knees (and other parts) are SCREAMING at you to do it at early as you can. The sheer bulk of the medications that keep me alive take up 1/3 of my full-time traveling suitcases (I’m 72 and didn’t retire until I was 67) Get a set it and (largely) forget it financial plan you can manage with a sense of peace. *AND the absolute best retirement advice I listened to? Do absolutely NOTHING for six months. No consulting gigs, no volunteer work. Take the red ball off your nose and put it in a corner. Let it deflate. Figure out the things YOU want to say YES to. I got a cottage by the water, took long walks WITHOUT my phone, made lists and wrote poetry, for goodness’ sakes. And we came up with slow travel for as long as we got the knees and minds to go it. But that’s us. You be YOU. I read the book that concluded that happiness comes when we learn from the experience of others. READ about others have retired—successfully and not. Don’t make those mistakes. Don’t be one of those “touch the stove” retirement toddlers!
Post: When the Spreadsheet Gets Real
Link to comment from June 7, 2025
Ahhh, my Shakespeare quote was Freudian, triggering the memory I have forgotten when I learned to be happy. That of being not to be. In the immersive Camus/Sartre teen years, I attempted suicide 4 times. Sheer will and intentional meaning-creation via existentialist writer Colin Wilson kept the instincts at bay until my undiagnosed bi-polar disorder was revealed 20 years later, followed by successful therapy and meds. The stitches in my wrist are all that remind me now.
Post: Dreams I Had by Jonathan Clements
Link to comment from June 7, 2025
When I was 7, I wanted to be a blonde named Judy and drive a red convertible. I had curly red hair and everyone misspelled or mispronounced my name. While the first two never happened I owned enjoyed my fair share of sports cars over the years—mostly stick shifts. A 1970 yellow MG Midget, 1985 Datsun B-210 and a 1998 VW EOS, After college I wanted to be a high school history teacher because I had godawful history teachers in hs. I applied to every county in Virginia to pay back my teachers’ scholarship without a single job offer despite a 3.8 GPA. Why? I forgot to learn how to coach football (though I DID have the credits to coach drama). Every single social studies teacher then was a boys’ sports coach. Which says to much about the state of civics today. Then, I decided to learn about the stock market and when the stupidest young jocks at the Bethesda Merrill Lynch office were getting jobs at $25% while I was making $6K as a sales assistant, I studied and took my Series Vii exam. I passed the math portion with a nearly perfect score and failed the Personality test. I was told I wasn’t aggressive enough to be a stock broker. Two years later, I got a check for $300 in the mail, the result of a class action suit brought on behalf of every woman who had ever failed. The test was judged to be gender biased. Then, I decided to fall back on my acting and moved to New York to trip the lights fantastic. Only to find out that every girl at every audition had had leads in all her high school and college plays. And had better teeth and no sibilant S. I was bursting with pride to get a callback (a 2nd audition) only to discover that every single girl had long, red hair. Then I became an exotic dancer during the pipeline in Alaska, then New York and other places, earned a shit-town of money, moved in with my bf, got a CETA job for a historical society that turned into 7 professional jobs, including four CEO positions, over 43 years helping artists, scholars, humanities and culturals organizations. Then, my dream, was to marry a happy person (as opposed to an alcoholic, Marxist critical theorist, may he RIP) and sell everything I own and travel the world slowly. Which I have now done for 5 years (well, the relationship and subsequent happiness is 18 years old now). Now, like many of my septuagenarian+ peers, I dream of a relatively pain-free aging and death where all my scores are settled and I dream in peace. “To sleep, perchance to dream: I, there’s the rub. For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.”
Post: Dreams I Had by Jonathan Clements
Link to comment from June 7, 2025
I got suckered in 1979 with the promise of a camera. After making a 5 hour drive, my husband and I were put in a hot room with a promo video featuring George Kennedy. It was $3,000 and I paid $56 a month for YEARS. Along with the RCI membership. My husband joked about the $3000 camera for all the years of our marriage. But there is a silver lining—I actually used it to trade in 1986 and every year thereafter. Its existence forced me to take vacations I may never have taken. To Florida, to Hawaii, England, the Caribbean, Spain. Finally in 2019, I went to the actual timeshare I bought (I had never even seen it since I bought it) with my brother as he is a big skier. We went again the next year. He enjoyed the week so much, I gifted it to him. 40 years of shame—SOLVED!
Post: Stepping In It
Link to comment from May 31, 2025
At least you didn’t buy the lots in Florida advertised right next to the sea monkeys (yeah, I bought them too). I DID always want to go to Palisades Park, NJ because of those ads.
Post: Stepping In It
Link to comment from May 31, 2025