The idea of retirement is seductive.
Planning for retirement is a little problematic.
Firstly, you need to know how much money you will be spending a year. Without an income that increases or is guaranteed, there are several problems.
Firstly, there is inflation.
Then there is the question of when you will be dying.
If I plan well, I should die just as the last cent is spent. If I don’t plan well, I could die before the money runs out, or still be alive when the money runs out.
I recently discovered good pizza.
Well, actually, re-discovered.
In 2014, sometime in late July, we had our first taste of a wood-fired pizza in Denham (approx 800 km north of Perth, Australia). We just knew it was GOOD pizza, and we attributed it to the wood-fired oven.
Which is partially true.
A pizzaria oven should reach temperatures of about 1000 F. or about 500+ C.
The standard ovens in our homes is only about half that at maximum power.
So for a while I had this fantasy of building a clay oven.
Recently, a colleague passed away.
She was younger than me. 49. 50, maybe.
I didn’t know her well.
She was transferred into our project team. I suspect because our team is viewed as being less stressful.
She had a heart condition. And at times seemed rather frail. And just after she was transferred in, she went on hospitalisation leave. And did not return.
And then she passed away.
Z has been exerting her independence with her mom and with me.
When PL brings her to school in the morning, Z is often still sleepy and would want to be carried. Especially if I bring her to school (if PL cannot do so), or if Z asks me to (because she is sleepy? I wonder).
However, a few days a week, she would be independent, and walk all the way to the MRT station, and on the bus, and walk to her pre-school.
“I can do it myself!” she would declare to PL.
On Father’s Day, I read this article (below), and how this father of 4 wished he had his kids earlier. He had the first one at 29. After years of trying. This is different from my perspective. Where I reflected that being a father late in life has its advantages.
I won’t say if his advice is right or wrong. He does realise the sacrifices needed, and then, like a good father, he dismisses these “sacrifices” as inconsequential compared to the joy of parenthood. Maybe, if I were a father at a younger age I would also come to that realisation and make those sacrifices without any qualms.
At some point, I realised that while I became a father at fifty, and this is not the usual age one becomes a father for the first time, that I was quite aware of the advantages (and disadvantages) of being a father (first) at fifty.
Or getting married late in life.
I see younger couples struggling to juggle the demands of their marriage, and perhaps parenthood, together with their other pursuits, and their need to commit to their careers, and I do sympathise.
Z was watching a YouTube video of some kids singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” to their new-born brother.
After the video ended, Z asked, “again!”
So I replayed the video. And at the end, she again asked for an encore.
And on the third run, she sang along.
For a while.