AND THEN I REMEMBERED...

If you’ve heard a rumor that I’m once again working at City Hall in Portage la Prairie, you heard right. And you heard wrong.

After 18 months of retirement, the City invited me back to help out until my old position can be filled once again. The request came completely out of the blue, but I knew I was supposed to say yes. I’m discovering that being pulled out of retirement is proving excellent for the memory.

Portage la Prairie City Hall

Day One felt the way I imagine it feels to come out of a coma. Slowly, gradually, I began to recall how to do various tasks I hadn’t given a thought to for a year and a half. Despite dead brain cells, the job was coming back to me and it felt good.

Until I returned home, too exhausted to do anything else. Then I remembered why I’d been so eager to retire.

Commuting to work on foot reminded me how lovely it is to feel alert and fit at 8:15 a.m.

Until I arose one mid-week morning to ice and snow. Then I remembered why retirement had felt so delicious.

Back at work, everyone was so appreciative and nice to me, I remembered why I’d been hesitant to leave in the first place.

Then I handled a phone call from a disgruntled citizen and remembered how little I’d missed work.

By the end of my first week, the work seemed like second nature. I felt competent. Useful. Accomplished. I remembered what I liked about working.

Then I suffered a restless night and remembered why I’d wanted to retire.

Until my first payday. Then I remembered why I spent most of my life employed.

Until a writing deadline loomed but my limited brain energy was all drained at city hall. Then I remembered how desperately I’d longed to retire.

Then one of my co-workers said, “I’m so glad you’re back. It feels like all’s right with the world having you here.” Which may have been a tad dramatic, but it made me remember what I loved about being at work.

Then I referred to Davy Crockett and another co-worker asked, “Who’s Davy Crockett?” and I remembered that I’m the oldest person in the building.

After three weeks, Covid restrictions tightened again, and I’m now spending my mornings on a city laptop in my house, remotely connected to files on the city’s server. And I remember how, even before retirement, I’d often thought I would like to try working from home. Except not under such sad circumstances.

While my memory bank is yanking me around like a kite in the wind, I confess I’ve wondered what God is up to in all this. It may be as simple as my easing another’s load for a while. Or maybe God has unfinished business for me. Or he’s simply providing for our financial needs in a surprising way. Maybe he wanted to remind me of the importance of not burning your bridges. Perhaps it’s all of the above or something I have yet to discover. Regardless, lessons can be learned in every expected and unexpected turn in the road and I don’t want to miss them. If my memory has retained anything, it is this: you are never a mere pawn moved around by a mysterious higher power. God opens doors and gives us the freedom to choose whether to step through or to stay put. Choose well. You’ll make some great memories.

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)