By Eric Goldfarb
The first Monday after retirement, I put on my navy blazer and rode the train downtown anyway. Thirty years teaches the body things the mind cannot repeal. I shared the elevator with three analysts discussing a merger. At reception, a young woman asked who I was there to see. I nearly said my own name. Instead, I said I used to work here. She gave me the patient smile that people reserve for tourists and men who remember fax machines. I stood in the lobby for exactly one minute before leaving. This, I learned, is what freedom looks like before coffee.
You capture the haunting muscle memory of habit. Such a sharp observation on how hard it is to unlearn years of purpose.
Thank you, Valérie. I’m delighted it landed with you. I really appreciate such a thoughtful response. -Eric
Gripping. Loved it. Well done!
Thank you, Catherine. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know. -Eric
The unspoken lesson is clear: the next day after retirement, the changes are irrevocable.
Nicely done!
Thank you, Cheryl. I’m especially glad you saw that in the piece. That sense of finality was exactly what I hoped would remain unspoken but still be felt, and it means a lot to know it came through to you. I really appreciate the thoughtful reading. -Eric