My husband is officially retired. Or tired. However you view the life milestone when it’s time to quit working forever. From what I hear, nice things were said on his last full day, pizza and cake were served, he shook many hands. I’m very proud of him.

This past week, he’s been walking around here somewhat stunned. He’s picking things up around the yard and in his shop, that he ignored for years. The pressure of time has been eliminated. Before last Wednesday (his official retirement day), he felt the need to get bigger things done instead of dealing with the small stuff because he had to get up for work. We had a little ceremony when he turned off his alarm for good.

So far, I like having him home. We may be in a “honeymoon” phase seeing as it’s not been a week yet, but so far he’s made me breakfast every morning and unloaded the dishwasher after breakfast. What’s not to love? Problem is, besides the writing gig, I’m a stay-at-home wife and mom to two adult children who still live with us and commute to college. I will never be retired, even if the kids move out. Where does my husband’s retirement leave me? I can write anywhere, and will always have meals to prepare, shopping to do, and laundry to wash.

I’m also much younger than my husband so I’m having an existential crisis lately about my purpose. One reason is I haven’t propagated a career except writing and it’s only for this paper, so it’s not exactly lucrative. Two, I’m not old enough to retire, so do I deserve to enjoy the benefits? I know I’ll continue cooking and cleaning, but our daughters are more like needy roommates at this point in their lives.

I booked my husband’s and my summer travel plans, which was fun knowing he was going to be retired. We can come home on Mondays instead of getting caught in the weekend rush, we can camp during Memorial week and leave the weekend for those who need it. I know I’ve been my husband’s support system while he worked. My role was an unspoken obligation because I stayed home with the kids.

All my mom friends went back to their careers after their kids went to school. I started blogging about being home. It made me a better writer, but I’m not fooling myself into thinking it was a contribution to our household. Now I realize I will never have good words said to me about my career as a stay-at-home mom, nor will I get a pizza and cake party, or an opportunity to walk around and shake hands on my last day.

A cousin once told me she envied my life, because she had always wanted to be home. I’m reminded why I made this choice. I have MS, and a month after having a newborn, I felt better than I had in years. If I had worked at being mom, wife, and chief chef and bottle washer as well as working outside the home, everything would have suffered. It was the best choice for our family. I am thankful my husband agreed, because my health has been fairly stable these formative years.

But I have a sense of guilt at enjoying retirement without putting in the labor outside the house. Sometimes I feel like I chose the wrong career, especially now that I’m searching for a new purpose. But then I remember my health and how much better it is than it would have been if I had chosen a different life and for that I am grateful. Wrong choice or not, I intend to enjoy my husband’s retirement.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing on her website livingwithgleigh.com, on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh by Gretchen Leigh,” or twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week at maplevalleyreporter.com under the Life section.