By Dave Ramser –
I woke up this morning feeling like I didn’t want to go to work.
It’s volunteer work too, so I’m not trading time for money.
But retirement — or semi-retirement in my case — is a slippery slope. You work all your life to get to this stage and then you wonder: What am I gonna do with all this time?
How do I fill the hours? More importantly, how do I feel good about the way I spend them?
I can see how some people get here and start giving up. I’m not there. Not even close. But I understand how it happens.
My retirement came early.
I was a television commercial director in my former life. Then, a decade ago, the work just stopped.
I still feel like I’ve got so much to offer. But I made my mark. Eventually, I stopped fighting the inevitable.
Can I reinvent myself?
Can I write the next great screenplay?
The jury is out.
For now, I’m putting on my white pants, white shoes and purple smock and heading into CMH — Community Memorial Hospital.
A few years back, they reworked my heart, and I’ve got the ten-inch zipper to prove it.
I guess, to some degree, I feel like I’m paying them back.
I’m not sure that stocking rooms and making beds can repay another ten or twenty years of life.
I joke about it like that’s the reason I donate my time.
But that’s not really it.
On the way in, I wonder why I bother.
On the way out, I’m glad I did.
When I take patients to their cars, I try to figure out what they need from me. If they seem up for it, I ask, “Ready for Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride?” Then I wheel them out like a granny in the slow lane, warning them about every little bump.
Other times, we just make small talk. Usually, they’re headed for their first meal in over a day. Either way, I get a chance to send them off a little lighter.
Is that why I do it?
Maybe.
Each patient gives me a chance to do it a little better. To treat them with grace. To get them safely to the street and into their cars.
And when I say, “Have an amazing day,” I’m not saying it like some California slogan.
I mean it. For a moment, I remember how much beauty there is in an ordinary day. How incredibly lucky we are.
Today my shift ends and I head to the cafeteria to grab a snack.
At the coffee counter, there’s a total mishap. Somehow the dispenser sends coffee everywhere.
How does so much coffee spill out of one urn?
The woman working the cash register comes to the rescue, and I jump in.
She brings towels from storage. Still in my whites, I start cleaning it up.
It’s literally everywhere.
We pull everything off the counter and wipe down each item, one by one.
What a huge mess.
And here I am, splashing coffee all over my uniform.
It isn’t my job. No one asked me to help.
So why do I jump in?
Maybe that’s closer to the reason I’m there.
Not to say thanks for the new heart.
Not to prove I’m still useful.
Just the chance to feel like we’re all part of the same struggle.
Helping may be the most human thing I can offer at this point.
No, I’m not directing a spot for Nike or Charles Schwab.
I’m just a guy lending a hand.
Around me, nurses and doctors are trying to grab lunch before getting back to their patients. I can make a tiny difference by sopping up coffee.
Nothing grand.
Just useful.
As I write this, my whites tumble in the wash and my hands still smell like dark roast.
AUTHOR
Dave Ramser is a Ventura resident learning to pay closer attention to life, community, and the unexpected pleasures of his second act. Dave’s contact information is available upon request.
