So, Friday came and went, and the weekend has been… well, pretty normal — if you count living in your front garden as normal. In theory, tomorrow morning should be the moment when things start to feel a little strange. The alarm not buzzing, the familiar pull towards work not having it’s usual effect. But if I’m honest, I’ve got such a busy schedule lined up that I don’t think I’ll have much time to miss the routine of heading off to work.
It’s a funny thing, leaving a place after such a long time. There are always those who won’t miss you — and who are quite happy for you to know it — and then there are those who you assume won’t miss you, but somehow that still stings a little when it becomes clear. Human nature, I suppose.
Then there are the closest colleagues. The ones who don’t say too much, not because they don’t care, but because saying too much might open the door to a few tears. No words are really needed there — there’s a shared understanding that sits quietly between you.
Most moving of all, though, are the moments you never saw coming. The people you didn’t realise you’d had any impact on, who take the time to say thank you, and who show genuine sadness that you’re moving on. Those conversations linger. They remind you that, in ways both big and small, your time mattered.
And that, more than anything, feels like a good way to close one chapter and begin the next.
Happy Retirement Wayne, I bet you will be missed more than your know. 😊😊😊🥳🥳🥳🥳
Thanks Maxine, it is going to take a little getting used to. Just need to get Debbie up and dancing again and then we will be off.