Old Ned's Blog

RETIREMENT

I‘m sorry Ruben, but we all knew this day would eventually come. You have worked so hard for so many years, It’s time for you to rest and enjoy life now. The Bishop spoke in almost too soft words. Ruben nodded, knowing in his heart that nothing was going to stop things from going the way the bishop had planned. 

The Bishop’s tall, angular body was uncomfortably bent away from Ruben, his eyes averted, now looking down at the old threadbare area rug that lay on the floor and then scanning the pictures that filled walls and spanned Father Ruben’s  last fifty years here; anything but making eye contact with Ruben. His mass of white hair lay askew, falling over his forehead, keeping his eyes hidden from any searching stare.  Silence filled the room with a suffocating heaviness that permeated the air.

When the new, energetic assistant came up the mountain last year, Ruben understood that he was really his replacement, not his helper as had been Jim, the old man who spent 10 years with him before he died. Jim had been a good friend and Ruben missed his quiet presence, always one step behind and one step to the side, as Ruben went about the business of pastoring this rural mountain parish. This new fellow kept a respectful step behind Ruben for the first few months, but now it was Ruben who stood behind this tall, handsome young man as he went about the business of the parish.  Ruben missed the comfort the old man brought with his presence. He missed everything that had once been his.

His old friend’s death was just a few months after his wife of 50 years, Elizabeth, had passed away. Actually, the dementia had taken her from him long before that. Ruben knew he had never been the same since that fall and winter when she went away in body as well as in mind. He shivered as he remembered that cold and damp winter that seemed to suck the life out of him.

Ruben looked out the window of his small, cramped office and watched a hawk holding still, working its wing flaps against the wind as it rode the air currents and watched for its dinner in the sloping field below the church.  Lucky fellow, thought Ruben.

He could hear the Bishop droning on in the periphery of his mind as though he was in another world. He was glad it was coming to this, but feared what the future would be, without his wife, the church and these people he had seen through several generations of life.

The congregation had always been there to help during that last few years, but Ruben and his wife were supposed to be there to help them, not the other way around.  Tears welled up in Ruben’s eyes as he only half listened to the bishop talk about how much Ruben deserved to retire, how Ruben had worked so hard for so many years, giving up everything for the church, the people and his calling. In his heart, he knew it was time.  He was 75 and this had been his only parish. He came here as a young pastor over fifty years ago with his new bride, with great hopes for a bright and wonderful future. It had been a happy and wonderful life for so many years.

The Bishop turned and placed his hand on Ruben’s shoulder, bringing Ruben’s thoughts back to the reality of the present. It’s time for the party, Ruben.  We need to go out and be with the people. They love you so much.  It’s as hard for them to say goodbye as it is for you. You are like a brother, father, a grandfather to every one of them.  You have been all of that and more. Look at all the people who have come from all around.

The two men walked together out into the bright light of the Sunday afternoon. Ruben felt a pressure within his chest, a pain that gave him the thought that he might not make it to the train the next day. He thought that it would be better if he could join Elizabeth and never leave the mountain or float above it all, like his friend, the hawk.