Today, I retire.
Retirement is often a pseudo-haven, incarcerating the unaccomplished, the unfinished and the unforeseen realities. The predicament of retirement escapes nobody, and this old, crippled woman that I now am thinks of her legacy. The journey had involved much work, struggle and, at times, pain, but I had stood by Aristotle and his revered words about endurance being the greatest part of courage.
Distinguished, from everything and everyone, is the legacy I am about to leave behind. I sit on the rocking chair, scanning the room, waiting for something to draw my attention, and there it is: a crevice in the woodwork stares right at me. Had it not been traversed by a beam of light, this crevice would otherwise be office furniture. This ray of light through the crevice I find analogous to the impact of a scholarship I was granted many, many years ago when I was a nobody and had nothing.