Thoughts from the Trifecta

The last chapter of Hopsi’s life is a succinct snapshot of Andrea and her personality, for better or worse.

Labor Day weekend 2021 Hopsi was at least 9 years old, which I’m told is really old for a rabbit. And he was showing his age: he would frequently trip, moving as if he were intoxicated; he was never excited about being fed; while asleep he slumped over, looking as if he were already dead. He was losing hair and weight at an alarming rate. Over the summer while the girls were in Austria I thought he might not survive due to the temperatures; having him die on my watch was not my goal, so I bought a fan which blew on his cage, providing respite from the heat. I just wanted him to live to see the girls one last time.

Hopsi looked bad enough that once the girls were home I warned them of his numbered days, and I asked Andrea how that works: do people euthanize rabbits?

Regardless, once the girls were home life went back to normal, which is to say chaotic with lots of moving parts. Hopsi was obviously in dire straits (thus my question to Andrea about euthanization), but Andrea “living in the moment” never took the time to truly look at him and ponder what action to take.

That is, until she was entirely alone in the house.

Labor Day weekend Niki, Britta & I were in Napa at BottleRock, while Annika was in San Francisco with Etienne. Andrea was home alone on Friday, where she noticed – surprise! – that Hopsi would frequently trip, moving as if he were intoxicated; was never excited about being fed; slept slumped over, looking as if he were dead. In her own uniquely impulsive way she decided – on her own, without consulting me, again in her unique way – that Hopsi needed to be compassionately put down immediately. She called around for options, then drove to Reno to a veterinary office that would provide the service.

To be fair to Andrea, who has a long history with rabbit’s, the day was difficult and wrenching. She openly wept at the vet’s office, and likely thought of Hopsi all weekend long.

But to be accurate, or to at least present my perspective, while euthanizing Hopsi was exactly the right call it would have also been appropriate for Andrea to consult me and the girls; maybe they would want to see him one last time, say goodbye, and be with him right to the end (just as they had insisted on doing with Baloo).

But the girls and I never had a chance to offer our perspectives. Andrea, with a lifelong determination to avoid any circumstances where she feels she is being controlled (eg a team of 1), as well as a lifelong inclination towards impulsive behavior, made the call. It was the right call, it’s only the timing which is in question.

A rabbit, unlike a dog, plays less of a role in a person’s life. Still, it’s with a smile that we think back to Hopsi, out of his cage, chasing Kino around (Baloo would immediately leave the room when Hopsi was let out) and humping (to include ejaculating on) Kino’s muzzle. Or thumping the ground to make his presence known. Or pushing your hand out of the way as you tried to fill his bowl with gourmet (really!) rabbit food, after which he would kick all the rabbit food out of the bowl and onto our floor so that he could get to the gourmet treats that awaited him. Or holding him – a rabbit! – and feeling his heart race at the normal rabbit rate.

Our rabbit Hopsi, ~summer 2012 to 9/3/21.

The girls leave for Austria in a few days, and we are having dinner. Out of nowhere – we may have been talking about Niki & Britta’s cleanliness and tidiness – Niki says that Britta will have to come by Niki’s dorm room once a week to clean it (insinuating that Britta is the cleaner of the two).

I was taken aback! I looked at Britta for a reaction, but saw none.

My distraction was due to this being the first time that either Niki or Britta mentioned life after…Niki or Britta. I had previously pondered how college might work, and could easily imagine that they insist (to themselves, to us, to potential colleges) that they are a team sport and you can only take one if you agree to take the other.

The next day after Niki’s comment I asked Britta what she thought about it, and she just shrugged. It seemed like she was more distracted by the thought of cleaning up after Niki, versus living separate from Niki.

I guess it’s a good thing that they (at first blush) are OK with separation – makes what will almost certainly have to happen eventually more manageable. Still, how it was articulated was so…ordinary. “No big deal, Papa”.

A dramatic change takes place in the kitchen and dining area once you have kids. Out of nowhere appears a high chair, and later a Stokke Tripp Trapp® Chair which “Grows With Your Child”. Kitchen drawers and shelves are inundated with sippy cups and plastic utensils and suction bowls and bibs. And it’s all good and celebratory, a constant reminder that things are different now with a little human being in the house.

But then, years go by and very subtlety these things start to disappear, one by one. It’s a slow moving change that may not register on anyone’s radar. No more high chair or bibs, but we still have plastic cups and bowls and small, plastic forks and spoons. Then we lose all that, and all that’s left are small metal forks and spoons.

Much of the time I set the table, while Mama does the cooking. This month, with Annika away in Salzburg and Niki and Britta at the ripe age of 13, I suddenly found myself grabbing 4 “adult” (large) forks to set the table with. And I stopped myself: why did I choose the large forks today, but the small forks yesterday? It makes sense; the girls are old enough, with mouths large enough, to operate an adult fork. But still, should I acknowledge that a chapter is ending? The dining & kitchen changes that first took place 18 years ago (almost exactly) are now gone? Shouldn’t there be some ceremony, all of us dressed in black or some such?

This reaction is a more prompt example of one I’ve noted before: things, places, or activities which used to be a staple of your parental existence suddenly cease to be a part of your life. Whether it’s the toddler area at Rideout, the playground at Common’s Beach, or small plastic (then metal) utensils, suddenly, poof, they are gone with no evidence (short of memories) that they were ever there.

Admittedly the utensils are an obscure and innocuous example of this – I had much more fun playing with the girls at Common’s Beach than I did watching them chew on plastic forks – but it feels like the last stand. There’s not much more in the material world that the girls will graduate away from; we no longer go to playgrounds, we don’t have to dress them, we don’t have to referee meltdown’s, and now, finally, we don’t need child-appropriate utensils.

To be clear: I look forward to the fun and adventure of walking by the side of Niki and Britta as they traverse their teenage years. But, man; things were really fun up to this point, too, and so I just want to let those small forks know: thanks, I will miss you.

In the Fall of 1992, while traveling through Australia on a 3 month sojourn, I met a German woman in Darwin. Birgit was an editor for a publishing company in Hannover, and was also traveling through Australia. As it happened our travel intentions took the same clockwise route, so we ended up traveling together for the next 6 weeks (Darwin to Cairns to Whit Sunday Islands to Fraser Island to Sydney, with much more in between). Those 6 weeks were an amazing time, a story yet untold but worth being told.

Birgit was a voracious reader, and my latent interest in reading – long dormant since grammar school, with a brief surge right after graduating from college – was reignited.  But even more interesting and new to me, was story telling. Each night, either on walks or in bed or sitting on a beach, we would tell a story to each other. A story that was fictional and created right on the spot. Sometimes, the story would be mine, sometimes it would be Birgit’s, sometimes we would create a story together, one of us talking for a few minutes and then suddenly stopping, leaving the continuation of the story to the other (and back and forth it would go, until we reached a mutually agreed upon ending). It was truly an exciting time, to be introduced to one’s imaginative abilities at 29 years of age.

Fast forward 15 years, and I began a similar routine with Annika who was around 5 years old. At night Annika would give me a word or two, and I would create on the spot a short story using those few words as the genesis. Sometimes (rarely) I created a story that impressed myself, other times I was embarrassed at how unimaginative it was. Most of the time the stories were just OK; more than sufficient to assist a young girl to sleep.

At some point – 12? 13? – Annika was old enough to lose interest in our story routine. I only vaguely recall this time, of Annika not being as interested in stories of make believe and wanting more “Young Adult” fare (not my forte). The reason I vaguely recall this transition is that Niki and Britta were more than ready to listen to my imagination, so the routine remained with only a change in the audience. At night Niki would suggest a word, Britta would suggest a word, and off I’d go. Later, when they were a little older, on occasion they would make up a short story of their own using the 2 words, to be followed by my attempt.

Until now.

Last month, at age 13 years ~4 weeks, Niki asks one night: “When did you stop taking Annika to bed?”. I didn’t recall exactly…but a few weeks later Niki and Britta had a proposal: Instead of Andrea and I rotating each night taking the girls to bed, the girls wanted to intersperse nights where they would go to bed themselves – an appropriate step for 13 year olds.

The first night I took the girls to bed under this new organization, whereas normally they would blurt out a word of their own to start the storytelling, they didn’t ask for a story. And just like that, it’s possible our tradition has ended – just like 6 weeks of traveling through Australia.

While my daughters are my best audience, I’ll have to figure out a way to keep exercising my feeble imaginative muscle…

It’s happened on more occasions than I can count, and while it aligns with my pondering on attachment theory and narcissistic personality disorder, it’s still unsettling.

On Winter Solstice 2020, when the “Christmas Star” of Jupiter and Saturn were visually closer to each other than they have been in 400 years (a minor event I wanted to share with Niki & Britta), I was…home alone. Niki & Britta had ski team that day (a Monday), and the plan was for them to go to Emma’s house after skiing. That’s all good. The only update I received from Andrea was at 3:08.

Texts from Ann (at 3:15 and 4:54) included pictures of the girls baking and decorating cookies – I knew they were enjoying themselves. At this point I was assuming (always bad on my part) the girls will be home around 6:30-7:00, and I began to think of some dinner ideas.

At 9PM the girls arrive home exhausted and tired and happy, which is good to see. Andrea doesn’t offer a word – not an explanation for the lack of a status update, that they have already eaten dinner…essentially an explanation for why an after ski get together turned into an all evening affair.

Now, I could have initiated texts to Andrea asking for a status, but I expected any updates to be vague (“We will be leaving soon”) and likely inaccurate. Plus I’d argue the onus should not fall on me to find out how their plans are playing out. Once they are home I know it’s useless to broach the subject with Andrea – asking, for example, why she didn’t keep me updated on what’s going on – because this lack of consideration just doesn’t register on Andrea’s radar. Consideration, for Andrea, is superfluous. I have enough experience in this regard, having been on the receiving end of many evenings like this, that I shrug my shoulders and commit to the goal to continue to strive for the high road.

The good news, I suppose, is that the girls seem to be insulated from the complete lack of grace on Andrea’s part; they were with a friend and having fun, as it should be. As they grow older they will likely notice these facets of their Mom’s personality, but they will be in a better position to process these observations.

Still, even then, I can’t help but think it will be just as unsettling for them.

Annika’s unhappiness in Tahoe, without any strong reliable friends to lean on after having returned from Salzburg in September, has lingered incessantly. She’s asked…begged even…to return to Salzburg, to Maria.

And so it is. She’ll be flying to Munich today, with Maria’s Mom essentially both adopting Annika and the parental responsibilities, where Annika will remain until…February? March? Always?

There is a lot to unpack here.

Annika’s lack of a best friend(s) in Tahoe has been a consistent theme; I don’t have an explanation.

Maybe it’s due to rural Tahoe, where kids have non-stop time-intensive seasonal activities (skiing [downhill or nordic]…soccer…dance…). Unless your “friends” do all the exact same activities as you, chances are you go from intense time together to no time together on this seasonal basis. It’s not obvious to me if Annika is the exception or the rule; whether she’s the lone wolf without any great friends, or whether none of them have a cohort of close friends to lean on.

Maybe it’s due to gymnastics; Annika adopted a sport that no one else in Tahoe City did, a sport that year after year increased in required investment of time, a sport that culminated with Annika out there…alone…such that when she stopped gymnastics and said goodbye to her gymnastics friends, there was no one for her to fall back on in Tahoe.

Maybe it’s cultural…having spent a year in Austria at a impressonable age (16-17 years old), maybe Annika matured more quickly than her Tahoe friends, to the point that she’s not able to bond with them in a new way.

Maybe it’s Annika. I don’t think so, but I don’t know….it’s likely a little bit of everything.

Annika has spent the last ~6 weeks working on her college applications, espousing her strengths, leveraging Salzburg as her beacon (didn’t know anyone, broke out of my comfort zone, happy endings). What Annika hasn’t comprehended is that what she’s most proud of from her time in Salzburg – making friends, fitting it, acclimating – she has utterly failed to do here in Tahoe. Maybe that’s not all on her – again, I don’t know. But from my perspective it doesn’t look like she’s tried much at all – like she’s in a ditch, and rather than ask for help to dig herself out or to figure it out herself she simply insists on staying in the ditch, miserable and disempowered. By going to Salzburg she’s running away from the problem, and we are facilitating it. But at some point I do have to worry about her mental health, and whether remaining in Tahoe does irreparable damage. My concern is that if things in Salzburg don’t turn out as she expects (needs), her options are two: descend even further into sadness and disappointment; or return to Tahoe more motivated to make it work, make the best of it.

I’m reminded of a moment I had with my Cisco boss, sometime around 2007. I was in San Jose for a visit; my boss also has 3 daughters. In his office he shares that his eldest was leaving soon for college, and I – the parent of an amazing ~4 year old Annika – was almost in tears, literally, trying to imagine saying goodbye to Annika. My boss Bob – a great guy, no bravado – was ambivalent. I didn’t see it then, but if he was like I am now – beat down, exasperated, ignored, unappreciated – it’s no wonder he was ambivalent.

In fact, it’s worse than ambivalent for me.

On Thursday Niki, Britta, Annika and I started on a hike from the house. Keep in mind that the previous night, while taking Niki and Britta to bed, Annika ducks her head in to say goodnight just as Niki and Britta were crying due to the realization that Annika was leaving to Salzburg. So Annika is aware she’s leaving, aware that it takes a toll on her sisters. But she’s also 17, a bit narcissistic…anyway, 5 minutes into the hike, when Annika realizes our intent is to hike around the meadows (a ~1 hour hike), she replies that she’ll take the very short route as she wants to go to Squaw.

Keep in mind that she’s not going to ski at Squaw …she’s not meeting any friends at Squaw…she’s just…going to Squaw, to burn time, so rather than spend another 50 minutes with her family she’d rather hurry to Squaw to…wander, aimlessly. She’s in that ditch and can’t be bothered.

She’s not. really. here. Already gone.

And it occurs to me…I want her to leave. I want her bad funk out of the house, away from Niki and Britta. I haven’t had a quality few hours with Annika in over a year, so while I’m literally saying goodbye to her on Saturday, figuratively speaking we said goodbye over a year ago. Andrea is heartbroken, understandably, as she receives authentic hugs in the morning and evening from Annika; Andrea is on the receiving end of laughs, conversation, moments – not all the time, but what I wouldn’t give…

People say – joke? – that teenagers treat their parents like crap in order to ease the separation. Maybe so; but this is just…disheartening. The teenage years are a waste of time, a wasted opportunity, it lacks humility…and worst of all, it’s so far removed from the beautiful and sincere young person that I used to know.

Certainly, obviously, I hope that Annika finds herself again once back in Salzburg. I want her to return to being mindful, being happy, being engaged. I want her to figure out what she wants (college, career, aspirations) and have the motivation and ambition to pursue it – and succeed. She is entirely capable of that, I believe. Hope.

The Stoics embrace an idea, which seems negative at first glance, of attaining happiness by visualizing losing something you have. The concept is that we get so caught up in wanting what we don’t have (and, often times, once we get that we simply move on to wanting another thing we don’t have) that we forget to appreciate what we do have. A few ways to exercise this task is via negative visualization (imagine, only for a moment, losing something you have and appreciate) and the “Last Time” meditation.

While stoics would recommend these brief exercises a few times each day, I limit myself to about once a year. Or two.

The first time I contemplated the “last time”, it was unintentional. I had to visit Rideout Elementary, which over the years was a school, then a Rec center, then a school, then back to a Rec center. When Annika was just a few years old, I would take her to Rideout (the Rec center) in the winter to play in a toddlers area – a fantastic opportunity that had more than a toddler needed to entertain herself for a few hours. This was a winter event only; summers were spent outside. A few years later Annika was a young girl, too old to enjoy Rideout, but the twins were at the age to continue the tradition – so the experiences continued…until they didn’t.

Years after I had stopped visiting Rideout with any of the girls, I visited the school (the Rec center was temporarily gone) and I was suddenly flooded with memories of playing with the girls – really having so much fun. And I was struck by the idea that one day long ago, first with Annika and later with Niki & Britta, we came to Rideout and played and then left, not realizing we would never return (since the next winter the girls would be too old to fully enjoy what the Rec center had to offer).

Upon being thrown into a “Last Time” contemplation, I mourned, for a moment, the loss of those times together. Most of the time we were alone, every time I was entirely present for the girls, and the opportunity for us to compliment each of our imaginations was priceless. And the idea that I never realized the “Last Day” when it happened (and realistically I should have been able to see it coming) just befuddles me. It would have been a moment worth commemorating, if only to myself, but having missed it at the time I made the proper acknowledgement years later.

So I took it further. The summer equivalent to Rideout was Commons Beach; just like Rideout, I would often take the girls there in the non-winter months, and we would play on the playground. And just like Rideout, one summer I stopped going – almost literally never visiting the playground again. So I drove to Commons Beach, and walked around the playground, recalling the fun and the laughs and the games.

Now, as I said, “last time” seems negative at first glance; it certainly is melancholy, if only for a moment. But it motivates and reminds me to appreciate what I have, right now. Which are 12 year olds which are still so much fun to be with, and a 17 year old who is traveling some difficult terrain right now and I want so badly to figure out how to help her.

Being present, but reflecting back.

Life and relationships can get a bit more complicated concerning money.

In November 2017 Rups gave us $120,000, specifically intended to go towards college savings for the girls. While the gift was generous, it was also the result of other factors.

After Birgit had been diagnosed with cancer and gone through all the treatments, at some point Christoph made a comment to Inga and Rups that amounted to this: If Birgit does pass away due to cancer at least he will be taken care of via Birgit’s inheritance.

This inappropriate comment, needless to say, alarmed Inga and Rups. While they absolutely intended to pass all their assets on to Andrea and Birgit, they had no intention of Christoph receiving any money in the event that Birgit did pass away. Thus began a process of managing their money (the inheritance) differently, the details of which I don’t know. But the decision to contribute $120,000 towards the girls education was part of their readjusted planning.

I broke up the money into the girls 529 Education accounts: $50,000 for Annika, and $35,000 each to Niki and Britta.

Fast forward to October 2019, when I arrived in Munich for the start of another year in Austria (the girls had already been in Salzburg for nearly 3 months). On the drive from Munich to Salzburg I shared with Andrea that I had been thinking more about retirement; I didn’t have a date in mind, but I was in the long process of doing the financial planning and contemplating what retirement might look and feel like (a sanity check so to speak). One aspect I mentioned to Andrea was that the girls education was already accounted for, with their 529 plans sufficiently funded which was certainly due in part to Rups and Inga’s contribution.

Andrea, who was silent throughout the entire conversation, insulted my integrity with the assertion that I was acting just like Christoph, essentially taking money from Rups and Inga. Her assertion was that I was only able to consider retirement due to their $120,000 contribution.

Now, without going into details, a 56 year old with kids still at home and potentially 40 (an optimistic guess) years of living left to do needs A LOT more money to retire than just $120,000, and while that contribution was helpful it didn’t factor at all into my decision making concerning retirement.

Thus I made a snap decision that before I were to retire I’d re-pay Rups and Inga the $120,000, with an explanation why (the explanation being that my integrity and character was worth more than $120,000). Andrea’s comment killed our conversation, and the drive continued in silence.

Jump ahead to September 2020, when I have decided to retire and I do have $120,000 set aside to re-pay Rups and Inga. To be clear, this wouldn’t affect the girls college finances; their 529 wouldn’t be touched, I’d repay them with money directly from me.

Consider for a moment the delicacy of the situation:

– While Rups and Inga were motivated to contribute financially to the girls education because of their complete love and adoration for the girls, there was a strategic aspect as well (namely, ensuring that Christoph doesn’t see any of their money should Birgit pass away).

– Rups and Inga have no idea of the October 2019 conversation between Andrea and I

– My returning their money, without including them in the conversation, can be taken as an insult (and rightly so)

Thus I wasn’t sure how to approach this. One thought was to wait until summer 2021, and talk with them about it in person. While I wasn’t willing to reconsider my plan (again, my integrity and character was worth more than $120,000), I could at least explain the situation in person before actually returning the money.

However, when the girls returned to the US in September 2020 Andrea changed my plans to some degree. I don’t know all the details, but this is what Andrea said: Rups is anxious about money (although Rups is always anxious about money). There are some improvements (the roof and bathroom were two examples) to their house in Roxheim that he didn’t have the money for. To be clear they do have enough money to live on via their monthly retirement/pension, it was additional funds for home improvement that they lacked. Andrea asked that I wire $50,000 (taken from the $120,000 contributed by Rups and Inga back in 2017) to Andrea’s bank account in Salzburg, for the purpose of alleviating her Dad’s anxiety and allowing them to make those home improvements.

A few things to note, keeping in mind that I don’t trust Andrea at all:

– She insisted I wire the money to her account in Salzburg, and not to Rups and Inga

– Even though Rups had given Andrea 400,000 Euro back in 2013 as a deposit for the house in Elsbethen (the total cost was about 500,000 Euro I believe), Andrea decided that if Rups needed money it was better to repay them from their contribution for the girls education instead of Andrea repaying them in part for the money they gave her for the house.

– It’s not clear to me that Andrea has any renters in the house; meaning she has monthly mortgage payments (for the balance of the loan) and other bills (like utility) that she is responsible for. Thus I wonder if Andrea is intentionally not renting the house so that it will be available each summer for their return to Salzburg. This is all speculation on my part; Andrea doesn’t share any details of what’s going on, and certainly won’t share any specifics as to her plans or intentions.

It’s unfair of me to speculate in a way that’s not complimentary of Andrea, but such speculation is informed by my history, experiences, and understanding of Andrea’s moral compass.

So my plan now, subject to change: I’ll wire $50,000 to Andrea’s bank now. Next summer I’ll have that conversation with Rups and Inga, and I’ll reference the $50,000 already repaid. While I hope it’s not true, I will not be surprised if they know nothing about the $50,000, and that some of that has been spent by Andrea.

In June 2019 an old friend Bryan Deaver, who started working at Cisco at the same time I did, visited Tahoe with his family. Bryan was in the middle of a 1 year sabbatical, and when I asked him about returning to Cisco he mentioned that he might simply retire. I’ve known Bryan for 27 years, he’s always been very low key, but his answer stunned me. My first thought was “Wow, can I do that too?”.

Thus began a year long thought exercise about retirement.

Even going back as a young boy I’ve always been careful with my spending, and committed to saving money (even if there was no goal in mind, no desired purchase to aim for) as well as investing money. I’ve made mistakes with investing, and learned along the way, and together my predilection towards saving money, my lesson’s learned over the years about investing, and my luck in having worked for Cisco for 27.5 years, in addition to having started with them 7 years before the dot-com stock crash (meaning for 7 years I was vesting in Cisco stock that was doubling every year) has served me well.

Contemplating retirement really consists of two exercises: doing the financial math, and pondering the emotional, mental, and psychological ramifications of not working (meaning, your purpose in life and your identity not being grounded in your work, your profession, your employer).

The financial math in the 2nd half of 2019 suggested I was really close to being able to retire and not have to adapt my (and my families) life style – meaning I could continue to spend money as I have been. Of course with Annika out of the house in 1 year (sigh), and Niki and Britta out in 6 (double sigh), considering that I have money saved for their college funds that means the money I spend each year will drop a little each year, then a lot in about 6 years.

Still, “really close” doesn’t equal “no problem”. I was enjoying my work, really liked my manager Ed Swenson (who I’ve worked with since Day 1 at Cisco), and was looking ahead to 1 year in Salzburg (9 months really for me, Oct 2019-Jun 2020) so I didn’t think too much more about the financial aspects.

However, 2020, the year of COVID-19 and economic hardships for millions of people, was a boon for me. This sounds like I’m brilliant but it was mostly just luck that I’ve done very well this year financially; my entire net worth has increased by close to 25% due to the stock market (I was out at the right time, got back in at the right time, bought some great stocks along the way, etc).

And so it was that by summer of 2020 my financial calculations now said “no problem”. This awareness of financial freedom going forward allowed me to spend more time contemplating the second exercise (pondering the emotional, mental, and psychological ramifications of not working). And for me this was, after 23 years of living in Tahoe, surrounded my role models demonstrating how to emphasize living over working, an easy task. The chance of using my time to spend with Niki & Britta (Annika was mostly done spending time with me, especially once she could drive) before they turned 16…skiing more, riding more, hiking more, doing more, possibly getting more involved with community events…the future of a retirement looked bright.

But again, I still really enjoyed my job. And then things happened, quickly.

On Wednesday August 12th I had lunch with Rick at Squaw; Rick and I have talked about retirement for a few years now (mostly me encouraging him to retire, as he’s almost 20 years older than I). We talked of it again, and I told him “I’m ready to retire, I just need Cisco to show me the door since I still enjoy my job too much to leave on my own”.

On Thursday August 13th Cisco had their end of fiscal year conference call with Wall Street (I never listen to these), where they announced they intended to cut costs by $1B (or about 6%) over the next year.

On Friday August 14th at the bi-weekly Cisco wide conference calls (they used to be monthly, but starting with COVID-19 they were held much more often) where Cisco announced the details:

1. An early retirement option, for those eligible
2. A reduction in your work week (and pay) of 20% for 1 year (so, working 4 days per week)
3. A layoff

I was not concerned with being layed off, so my priorities were #1, then #2. Anything to have more free time.

On Tuesday August 18th at 10:00am (exactly) I was notified that I was eligible for the early retirement package. Cisco was offering me 15 months of pay, 9 months of health insurance coverage, and expedited stock options. I was thrilled and ready to accept immediately.

Still, I had 10 days before I had to officially accept. I spoke with my manager, looked at my numbers again, and thought things through once more. At no time was there any indication that I should pause, wait, be cautious, or work longer. So on Wednesday Sept 2 I accepted the package, and my last day working for Cisco will be Oct 5, after 27.5 of working for Cisco.

A short Cisco recap:

I was hired in March 1993, working in Mountain View. I had been out of work for 6 months, the first 3 of which were traveling through Australia and New Zealand. By March 1993 I was broke, living with Grandpa in Martinez, and ready to work.

Immediately my time at Cisco was intoxicating. The work was challenging and fun, the people were super smart and competent, the environment was productive and I was not being micro-managed. I was working in the Technical Support Center (TAC), dealing with customer’s directly to resolve their Cisco (hardware of software or configuration) issues. After 1 year in Mountain View, where I had no life and was working too much but also enjoying every minute of it, Cisco moved to their new Headquarters in San Jose. By 1996 after a number of pay raises I was promoted to the escalation team, dealing with high visibility customer problems, working closely with software development, and training young engineers. I traveled to Brussel’s a few times, Australia, Raleigh, Mexico, and numerous customer sites to support customer’s and Cisco engineers.

In 1996, in order to spend more time with Andrea in Germany, I asked for a 3 month sabbatical and Cisco allowed it without hesitation.

In 1997, at the eve of getting married, I asked to work full-time remotely from Tahoe. No one worked remotely, so it was a big ask but my Cisco managers allowed it without hesitation.

In 2003 after Annika was born I took 3 months off to spend time with Annika, and Cisco allowed it without hesitation.

In 2007, just before Niki & Britta were born, I was nervous about having the time to help with them so I asked to leave the TAC (after 14 years) and move to the Certifications group, which was lower stress and easy work. Cisco allowed it without hesitation.

In 2017, after too much time with the Certifications group (the manager was nice but incompetent, the work minimal, I wasn’t dealing directly with customer’s and it wasn’t that technical and the projects would take months and months to complete) I moved back to the Services group, back working for my old friend Ed (I had worked under him once before at TAC). The job was fantastic, Ed’s super smart and great to work for, so it’s been so much fun.

In all, it’s been a wonderful journey; a great company to work for; and an exciting time to be working in the high tech arena. But I’m ready to slow down, to live life, to be more present to my kids and my friends.

This retirement thing has gotten me so excited…

An interesting read.

Of course, all of this argues for nurture (vs nature), but yesterday I listened to a 2 hour podcast about how much nature (genetics) affects humans and basically parents really can’t do much wrong (except in the extreme cases). My suspicion is that nurture (shared environment) matters a lot the first few years of life, before nature truly starts to kick in thereafter. But who know’s, it’s complicated.

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/07/can-an-unloved-child-learn-to-love/612253/

Of special interest is “Insecure Avoidant”:

– does not orientate to their attachment figure while investigating the environment.

– very independent of the attachment figure both physically and emotionally

– does not seek contact with the attachment figure when distressed. Such children are likely to have a caregiver who is insensitive and rejecting of their needs

– The attachment figure may withdraw from helping during difficult tasks and is often unavailable during times of emotional distress.

Insecure-avoidant infants are associated with unresponsive primary care. The child comes to believe that communication of needs has no influence on the mother/father.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attachment_in_children
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attachment_in_adults

Dismissive-avoidant
A dismissive-avoidant attachment style is demonstrated by those possessing a positive view of self and a negative view of others.

People with a dismissive style of avoidant attachment tend to agree with these statements: “I am comfortable without close emotional relationships”, “It is important to me to feel independent and self-sufficient”, and “I prefer not to depend on others or have others depend on me.” People with this attachment style desire a high level of independence. The desire for independence often appears as an attempt to avoid attachment altogether. They view themselves as self-sufficient and invulnerable to feelings associated with being closely attached to others. They often deny needing close relationships. Some may even view close relationships as relatively unimportant. Not surprisingly, they seek less intimacy with attachments, whom they often view less positively than they view themselves. Investigators commonly note the defensive character of this attachment style. People with a dismissive-avoidant attachment style tend to suppress and hide their feelings, and they tend to deal with rejection by distancing themselves from the sources of rejection (e.g. their attachments or relationships).