Days of leaves and loss

December 3, 2019 9 By Caveman

Everyone has their favourite season. Some live for the long, sultry days and balmy evenings of Summer. Others enjoy the chilled noses, open fires and hibernation of Winter. Still other revel in Spring, the promise of new life, the sense of nature stretching out and walking up in the gentle sun and showers.

Personally, I love them all but I particularly love Autumn. I love the way that it starts like Summer with warm days spent outdoors in t-shirts. I love the way it moves to the bonfires and fireworks and kicking through piles of leaves. Despite it getting darker and colder I even love how autumn ends. pregnant with the promise of Christmas.

Back to school

As I look out of the window the dog days of autumn are giving way to the glitter of Christmas. The last few leaves spin on the scantily-clad trees. The chimney has been swept and, in the middle of the afternoon, the fire is lit. This all puts me into a contemplative mood.

Looking back a few months the start of the autumn was also the start of a new school year. It’s been a while since I was in education but I still got a ‘back-to-school’ feeling when autumn came round – accompanied with a small regret that I don’t have an excuse to buy a new pencil case any more. More than January I think of the beginning of autumn as a time for new starts.

This year that wave of change has felt like a tide as my youngest started secondary school year. Late summer was spent buying new uniforms and sports kit, filling in forms, and trying out bus routes. Now they have been there for a couple of months I realise that my life has changed more than I would have thought.

Autumn days with children past

Autumnal days with children past

Slipping away

Gone are mornings walking my children to school. The weaving through crowds while they chatter about the hat they’re wearing or their favourite book, or what their dream holiday would be.

Gone are coffees with other parents when we had a small window between dropping the kids off and starting work. The chats as we waited in the playground for our children to tumble out of school at the end of the day. Of course we can still meet up but it’s not the same.

Gone, even, are the panics of trying to make breakfast while realising that we need to fill in a form for a school trip while making a last minute costume for world book day. Although if I were to be honest I would have to confess that my wife managed almost all of that.

All of that is now up to them, not us. And it’s only once it is no longer there that I realise how much I miss my children relying on me. How much I miss knowing every corner of their lives.

Of course I want my children to grow up. I couldn’t be prouder of their new-found independence and confidence. That it is normal and right and important doesn’t stop that sense of loss as I watch my children walk out of the door by themselves.

The days are long but the years are short

Even more than the grey in my hair and the desire to wear slippers, this milestone has made me realise that I’m getting older. It has also emphasised the importance of spending time with my children.

Like the autumn leaves falling from the trees, this time is so, so fleeting. There is a saying that experienced parents pass on to newer ones: The days are long but the years are short. When I had children I would hear that most often from parents whose children were adults. They passed on that wisdom while looking in the rear-view mirror.

That point hit home with me and I think about it frequently. Even though I’m right in the heart of those years, that has never felt so true as it is now.

As I’ve written about before, I’ve been running with the rule of thumb that if I do nothing beyond what I am doing now then I can comfortably retire right at the point when my youngest child leaves school.

Since then though I have properly run the numbers and, actually, my situation is better than I thought. I ran that initial analysis when there were some big known-unknowns in my life. For better or worse, mostly better, those unknowns have now crystalised. With some modest changes I think that I can pull the trigger in a maximum of three years. That’s good right?

“I’m reviewing, the situation, if you want to eat you’ve got to earn a bob”

Well, yes, of course that’s good. To be in that position while I’m still in my 40s would be incredible and will put me well ahead of most of the population. But yet.

But yet three years is a long time when you’ve only got a handful left with your children. My eldest will not be living at home for very much longer at that point. Could I live with those regrets?

So, as Fagin did during his mid-life crisis in the musical “Oliver!”, I’m reviewing the situation. While he questioned if a man could be a villain all his life, my choices are simpler. I’m facing three broad options.

Option 1: Stop work at the end of this school year.

Lifestyle wise to make a few modest changes but essentially to carry on as we are now. In effect I would have a long sabbatical for the next few years while my children finish school. That would be funded by running down my savings. Once my children are adults then I would look to move to some kind of Barista FIRE. In fact, I’ve toyed with the idea of possibly even training as a teacher or a teaching assistant. The point though would be to earn enough to cover living costs before I could access my private pension

Option 2: Work for two more years.

This would allow me to fully FIRE if we made some relatively material changes to our lifestyle. To be clear it’s not as if it would be particularly hard. I’m talking camping holidays rather than something involving a plane. Eating out becoming a treat a few times a year rather than something that we do a once or twice a month. Being much more mindful about how much we spend on things like Christmas and Birthday presents. These are all things that are perfectly normal for most people, but it would involve a mind shift for us.

Option 3: Work for three more years.

I guess that this would be hitting Fat FIRE. There would be a double whammy of an extra year of saving and pension contributions, combined with not having to run down those savings for a year. This would mean that I could stop work with limited impact. While we would have to make some modest changes we wouldn’t really notice them. Crucially, I wouldn’t have to work for money again. In addition a big benefit of Option 3 is that I would be able to give my children financial support through university. Something that I’ve talked about before.

What to do?

These aren’t complicated trades offs to understand. In many ways they are the generic FIRE trade offs writ small. Time vs lifestyle.

That doesn’t make it a straightforward decision to make though.

I wonder. Is there a whiff of fear in there as well? The fear of somehow getting it wrong? The fear of jumping off the hamster wheel too early and then not being able to get back on when/if I need to. That fear is battling the fear that I leave it too long and end up missing out on time with my children.

There is some relief though that I have capped the risk. Whatever happens I won’t leave it more than three years. That will give me more time at home with my teenage children than most parents get while removing almost all my financial concerns for the rest of my days.

But there is an attraction to just going for it now. Option one is very immediate. Making the decision in the next few months with a view to pulling the trigger by giving my notice early in the new year.

Sadly I don’t have any tidy resolution for you to round off this post neatly. As I snuggle into my chair and bid farewell to autumn I don’t know yet what I choice I will make.

If you were me, what would you do?