My Favorite Doctor Retires: A Reflection on Aging, Gratitude, and What Comes Next

There are certain people in our lives who hold more space than we realize—until they’re gone. My gynecologist, Dr. Payer, has been one of those rare anchors. She recently announced her retirement, and while I knew this day would come eventually, it’s still taken me by surprise.

She wasn’t just my doctor. She was a steady presence during some of my most vulnerable moments. The one who consistently translated fear into clarity. She always gave me reassuring words when I needed them most and never once rushed me. She always listened, and never made me feel silly for being scared. In a world that often moves too fast and forgets to look you in the eye, she was a steady force of compassion, intelligence, and calm. She always sat with me and looked me in the eye, sometimes even holding my hands when things were challenging. I feel so fortunate to have had her as my doctor.

Honestly, I’m a little thrown. At almost 70 (!!), I don’t go in for yearly gynecological checkups anymore. These visits have become less about exams and more about the relationship, the history, the quiet reassurance that someone truly has my back. Dr Payer has always had my back.

And now, like many transitions that come with aging, I’m faced with a new kind of letting go. A chapter closing not because anything went wrong, but because time moves forward. While her retirement is a well-earned rest, my heart feels a bit displaced.

I find myself wondering: Where do I go from here? Not just medically, but emotionally. Who do I trust with this next season of care? Who will speak to me with that same mix of firmness and gentleness? Maybe no one will—but maybe that’s not the point. Maybe the point is to let the gratitude take root, and carry forward the wisdom I received from her.

I will write her a letter. I will tell her that she was my rock. That when

I walked into her office scared and left each time steadier. That her retirement marks the end of an era in my life. That her care helped me get through some of the toughest moments.

And I’ll remind myself that this is part of the gift of getting older: knowing how to say thank you. Knowing how to mark the endings. Knowing how to bless the ones who walked with us—and let them go when it’s time.

So here’s to you, Dr. Payer. Thank you for being exactly who you were, exactly when I needed you. May this next chapter bring you the same peace and support you gave to me and to so many others.