Shortly after Lee died, I lost my enthusiasm for my regular work.  My career as a trial and appellate lawyer quickly paled in significance next to the impact and importance of her loss, despite the many interesting and important cases I’d been involved in over the years.

However, it wasn’t as if one day I awoke to suddenly discover that I could no longer function competently as a lawyer.  Rather, I developed a greater appreciation for the possibilities of a life beyond work and consciously chose to pursue them. Fortunately, my age and economic circumstances allowed me this choice.

This July, it will be five years since Lee’s death. After such a passage of time, I can now say that I am comfortable with my decision to semi-retire, as it were, which has allowed me to pursue other interests, including, among other things, writing these posts and enjoying extended travels with Lola the pup.  Yet, I’ve managed to keep my fingers in the practice of law, making occasional contributions to our cases while no longer being the primary attorney responsible for managing cases and developing new business.  As I say, I’ve been quite comfortable with this rebalancing of work and life away from work, although today my income derived from practicing law is below a subsistence level.

Very recently, however, my long-time friend and (former) business partner informed me that our major litigation project for nearly the past decade could soon be concluded. Mind you, nothing like the one hundred-year-long case of Jarndyce versus Jarndyce that Charles Dickens litigated in his novel Bleak House, but a good, long run, nonetheless.

And I have no interest in resuming legal work full-time, but I must admit that I have enjoyed my irregular, part-time employment in the past several years. After all, the work is mentally stimulating, helping me to avoid senescence.

I also stay connected to the “practice of law,” including the responsibilities that are part and parcel of possessing a law license. Avoiding such responsibilities would require that I either suspend or surrender my law license, steps which I presently am hesitant to take.

I also stay connected to former colleagues.

I still enjoy the perks, including the office parties, cocktail hours, and the firm’s annual holiday gala at the Yacht Club. These activities ensure I will at least occasionally get out of the house. They help me remember how to make a shirt tie.

If the work completely dries up, it is possible I would no longer be welcome to attend these fine events, despite a hard-earned reputation for being a glad-hander and hall fellow well met. I might forget how to tie a tie.

Today, my good friend and long-time law partner is now merely my good friend and former law partner.  It’s an important distinction as he has no interest or incentive to cut me in for old time’s sake.  By agreement, as part of an age-related exit strategy, it’s been nearly ten years since we dissolved our small but successful law firm to join forces with the current larger outfit.  Ever since, our respective billings have been revenue-neutral toward each other.  He does not profit from my work at this new firm.

I still have several work-related projects on my calendar.  Whether any of them will go forward now remains to be seen. Meanwhile, I will ponder what I can do next to fill the void.  To be continued…