Funny how the newness of being retired is stirring up memories and dreams of nervous times gone by. As of late, my dreams have been more like the feverish nightmares of a six-year-old than those of a wizened and jaded old man. Am I really that anxious about starting this new phase of life?

When I was about six, I lived with my family in a small trailer on Lakeheath Air Force Base in England. It would be our fourth and final home before returning to the United States. The first had been a cold water flat in the basement of a small castle which had become a hotel. The second had been in half of a big farmhouse out in the country. And, the third had been a two story brick house in a row of houses in Lakenheath Village.

One night, just before we were being put to bed, there was a report on the news of an escaped tiger. I'm not sure where it had escaped from. It was probably nowhere near us. Just the same, I remember peering out the tiny window by my bunkbed watching and listening for it to attack. My equally frightened sister, in the bunk above me, did the same. We shared frightened whispers into the night, until Mom came to put a stop to it.

I can still remember how frightened I was that night. When I did finally drift off to a fitful sleep, it was short-lived. I dreamed of being chased by something I couldn't see behind me and woke in a sweaty terror. It didn't matter that I was safely inside. It didn't matter that I lived on an Air Force base with a chain link fence guarding its perimeter. I was terrified of a tiger, which, truth be told, was really only a concept of a tiger, as the poor escaped critter would never come close to being an actual part of my life.

Now, here I am, fifty-two years later, reliving the terror of being chased by something I just can't see behind me. I know that retirement is an adjustment. I know I will relax into it. But for now, I am going to yield to my inner child and tell myself that it is okay to be a little frightened.