“Find a purpose to serve,
not a lifestyle to live.”
Criss Jami, Author

“Who am I now?” I’m fairly certain this is a common question pondered by retirees who spent thirty to forty years of their life identifying themselves with what they did for a living rather than who they were as individuals. Some seem better equipped to handle this question than others. 

Well, I used to be Battalion Chief Tom Carroll of the San Francisco Fire Department, but now… For years, this was a difficult one for my Dad.

I’m Hobie Landrith. I used to play major league baseball, but now… Indeed, he did. On July 19, 1960, Landrith, now in his mid-90s, was the catcher for the San Francisco Giants when pitcher Juan Marichal made his major league debut. Marichal pitched a no-hitter into the seventh inning. He ended with a complete-game, one-hit, 2-0 victory over the Philadelphia Phillies. I ran into an aging Hobie at a podiatry office in Mountain View just a few years ago.

My wife, Kathy, struggled with the same question after her retirement from the phone company. I remember her saying, “It used to be ‘Hi, I’m Kathy Carroll with AT&T,’ but now who am I?” The struggle is real.

With all the perks that come with one’s retirement, many feel the burden of identity loss. Who am I now? I’ve been giving this some thought lately. I used to be Mr. Carroll, the teacher. Then, some got to know me as Kevin Carroll, the author. But do either of these impressions do justice to who I am? I don’t think so.

Many of my former students and colleagues experienced me as a good educator. Others, I’m sure, had a very different opinion of me. Many readers of my books consider me to be a competent writer. No doubt, there are those who think otherwise. That’s just how life works. So do I really want to be identified by what I did, rather than by who I am?

Okay, I find myself getting a little off-topic here, but rather than delete and restart, I’ll press on. Psychologist Viktor Frankl is remembered for being a survivor of the Holocaust. He is also recognized as an inspiring author. In his book, Man’s Search for Meaning, he wrote, “He, who has a why to live for, can bear almost any how.” This statement explains why some prisoners in concentration camps survived while others perished. Frankl never gave up hope that he would have a future. He envisioned a purpose for his life after the horrors of the concentration camp experience. This helped sustain him, and strengthen him, to endure the hardships of Auschwitz. 

While Frankl’s situation was markedly different from ours, his statement can serve as an inspiration for all of us. It invites us to ask the question, “What’s my ‘why?’”

For those of us who spent half of our life being productive, earning a living, and, perhaps, providing for others, retirement can be a humbling reality. I have a modest pension, and yes, I draw on Social Security, but I don’t have the earning power I had in the prime of my life. So what motivates me now? What enables me to get up in the morning and look forward to the day ahead? For our own mental health, we must have a response to these questions.

I had some vague ideas of what I hoped my retirement would be. I envisioned traveling. I looked forward to getting together on a regular basis with friends for lunches. And I intended to do some reading and writing. Only the reading and writing have become realities. So what do I do? I help Kathy with the task of taking care of my younger two granddaughters while their parents go to work each day. This is not what I expected to be doing, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. They are my purpose to serve. They are my “Why.”