Are you in the fall season of life?

Autumn is my favorite season. The sunny days with low humidity, the cool sometimes chilly evenings, and the turning of the leaves are refreshing to me. To some people, fall can represent something negative. The plants are dying or going dormant. Cold weather is not far off. School is back in session.

Negative things. But to me, it is an exciting time. High school and college football! Long walks in the crisp air. New seasons of television shows (lots of good ones this year!). And, I must confess, when I was growing up I always looked forward to the start of a new school year. Why? Because it represented a new beginning, an opportunity for change, a chance to make new friends and to reinvent myself.

So when I was asked to speak at our church’s quarterly WINGS (Women in God’s Service) event about being in the fall season of life, I couldn’t help but think how appropriate it was. I was asked to do so because I recently retired, so because of my age and my circumstances, I am truly in a new phase of my life.

And, believe me, I am loving it.

But I don’t view my fall season of life as a time to sit back and do nothing. Instead, I view it as a time to do the things I never had time to do while working. Things on my bucket list.

No, not sky-diving or traveling the globe or anything out of the ordinary. But things like jogging/walking (mostly walking) the St. Jude half-marathon in Memphis on Dec. 1. It’s been my preferred charity since I was in college, and I registered as a hero, pledging to raise $600. Thanks to generous friends and family, I reached that goal by the end of July.

Things like volunteering more. When my dad was in hospice care and spent the last four days of his life in a local nursing home, I noticed the residents who seemed to have no one visiting them, residents who couldn’t do simple things for themselves. I pledged then, in 2012, to become a regular volunteer, to “adopt” residents who had no family or friends. Three weeks after I retired, I went to the nursing home, filled out the paperwork, and had the background check. Maybe, just maybe, I can bring a little comfort and companionship to the lonely.

I now have time to do editing for Mantle Rock Publishing during the daytime hours instead of nights and weekends. The same for taking care of my 91-year-old mother’s needs. I have more time to write.

But autumn also represents harvest, a time to reap the rewards of hard work. Crops are gathered and sold or stored for winter. In retirement, I am reaping the rewards of working at least part-time since I was 12 years old. My dad was in the newspaper industry. I had a paper route for three years. I worked part-time in the summers at the “print shop” beginning at `13. During high school and college, I had jobs at the newspaper, Kentucky Fried Chicken, the Pacer Pantry on campus, and a local bank.

Full-time work? Eight years in banking/lending, 25 years teaching, and seven years as principal.

But I have a confession to make. I worked in education for 32 years, but I never wanted to be a teacher. At least, not in the way that it was my life’s goal.

No, I wanted to work in corporate America, in a large city like Nashville. I majored in Spanish and minored in French and took classes like business law, foreign relations, and accounting to prepare me for a job in international business.

But life has a way of throwing some curve balls, so that goal was never realized. Instead, I ended up teaching so I would have more Mom-friendly hours, not knowing that during the school year I would be putting in fifty hours a week or more. I struggled at the beginning. I had no idea how to manage a classroom, no idea how to teach high school students.

But my father, whom I admired more than any influence in my life, taught me to do my best at any job I did, whether I liked the job or not. So I did the best I could. I tried to become the best teacher I could be.

I loved the students. But I hated the job. Although I am passionate about public education, I became discouraged too easily. Negative attitudes from students, though few and rare, bothered me. I battled discouragement. But dealing with student misbehavior, students’ complaining about work they were expected to do, student apathy, creating lesson plans that took hours to plan but only minutes to present, grading all those papers, and other things were a far cry from the life I had envisioned for myself.

So now, I am reaping the rewards of sticking with a job I never intended to have, a job I did because of family. And what am I reaping? A decent pension. Sleeping past 5:30 If I want, although I’m usually up by 6:00. Time to do things on my bucket list. And the great connections I have made with students, teachers, administrators, and parents.

Even if you have your dream job, you wil likely tire of it someday if you work at it long enough. I realize that. But I do take some comfort in knowing that, even if I didn’t get a chance to pursue, let alone accomplish, my goal, maybe I played a small part in helping others reach theirs. Not that my students ended up using Spanish or French in their jobs, but maybe I influenced them and helped them somehow along the way.

In the autumn of my life, my dreams have changed. They are no longer focused on self. My dream now is to be a blessing to others. Whether it is raising money to fight childhood cancer, helping out at the nursing home, doing what I can at church, and continuing to take care of my mother, it is a time for new beginnings. A chance to reinvent myself to become the person God has always wanted me to be.