AUDIO PODCAST 6 minutes

This morning, my wife asked me for help to put on a beautiful necklace that she had chosen for the day. Those little hooks and eyes are often hard to see, and they are much smaller than the fingers I was trying to maneuver. After finally managing to secure it around her neck, I looked at her with a smile and said, “Do you know one of the reasons I love you so much?” She looked back at me with curiosity and said no, prompting me to elaborate. I responded warmly, “Because you make me feel needed.” In that moment, a thought came to my mind, reflecting on my life, “All my life, I have had to feel needed.” It’s as if this simple act of assistance was a reminder of the deep connections we forge through our daily interactions, where being there for each other reinforces love and commitment.

When I was young, it was important for me to be able to help around the house, as I believed that contributing in meaningful ways not only strengthened our family bond but also taught me valuable life skills. I always helped my dad mow the grass, which became a cherished weekend ritual, and assisted him with the cars, learning the basics of maintenance and repair. In school, I helped many teachers around the classroom by setting things up, organizing supplies, and even tutoring fellow classmates who struggled with certain subjects. I was particularly proud to serve as an assistant in the chemistry lab for the teacher, where I eagerly helped after school, gaining hands-on experience with experiments and developing a deeper understanding of scientific concepts. During high school, I took on a part-time job at the public library, where I not only helped patrons find books but also engaged in various other duties around the library, including shelving returned books, maintaining the reading area, and organizing community events, all of which enriched my appreciation for literature and the importance of public services.

Drafted into the army and quickly found out in basic training, I learned an important lesson: do not volunteer for anything. If you volunteer, you end up doing the dirty, crappy jobs that no one wanted to do, and these tasks often fall to the inexperienced or overzealous recruits who are eager to prove themselves. As a result, instead of the camaraderie and sense of purpose, I found myself stuck in a cycle of monotonous duties, cleaning equipment and performing menial tasks under the watchful eyes of our drill sergeants. Therefore, during that military time, I did not fill my desire to feel needed or valuable; rather, I learned to navigate the complex hierarchies of military life, where the most mundane activities often overshadowed any opportunity for personal growth or meaningful contributions.

Life continued on, and during my employment years, I always volunteered to do odd jobs, whether it was staying late to help a colleague finish a project or taking on tasks that others preferred to avoid. Looking back, I think that is one of the reasons why I was able to establish strong relationships with my coworkers and superiors alike, fostering a collaborative environment that benefited us all. I did well with good raises and promotions, which felt like a natural progression, as my willingness to lend a hand not only demonstrated my commitment to the team but also showcased my adaptability and work ethic in an ever-changing workplace.

In my retirement years, I’ve discovered that stepping back from full‑time work doesn’t mean stepping away from being useful. If anything, I seem to have doubled down on volunteering in all sorts of situations—some sensible, some… less so.

Take the time after a heavy snowstorm when a large limb snapped off a neighbor’s tree. Most people my age would have shaken their heads, offered sympathy, and gone back inside for a cup of something warm. Not me. I marched over, announced that I’d take care of it, and proceeded to cut up and haul away the entire limb myself. I was close to eighty at the time, which means that if I had possessed even a teaspoon of common sense, I would have left that limb exactly where it fell and let someone with younger knees and better judgment handle it. But no—apparently I was determined to prove that gravity, age, and orthopedic reality had no authority over me.

And then I was the H O A president. For three years—three full years—I volunteered for the non‑paid, occasionally thankless, always “interesting” position of H O A president. It was enlightening in the way that climbing Everest is enlightening you learn a lot, you gain perspective, and you spend a surprising amount of time wondering why you ever agreed to this in the first place. I discovered that people have very strong opinions about things like mailbox paint, shrub height, and the exact shade of beige that qualifies as “community‑approved.” I also learned that diplomacy is a skill best practiced with deep breathing and, occasionally, earplugs.

Still, for all the absurdity, these experiences taught me something important: retirement doesn’t mean retreat. It means choosing where to put your energy—and sometimes choosing wildly, hilariously, questionably—but choosing all the same. And honestly, I wouldn’t trade any of it.

Finally, this blog sprouted from a little thought bubble that floated into my mind while I was reflecting on my life—yes, the deep stuff, over a cup of coffee. “All my life, I’ve had to feel needed,” and let’s be honest, that sentiment sometimes feels like the punchline to a joke that only I’m in on! Who knew that a random thought could lead to such profound revelations? It just goes to show that inspiration can pop up in the most unexpected places, like when you’re knee-deep in laundry or waiting for your toast to get crispy. As I reminisced about my chaotic adventures, I realized this obsessive need for validation has shaped my journey more than a GPS gone haywire, steering my dreams and the relationships I accidentally create along the way. This hilarious epiphany threw open the floodgates of ideas, prompting me to dive into the deliciously messy topics of identity and existence, ultimately motivating me to share my quirky musings through this blog!