My husband retired from the Navy last week. I am still absorbing that fact. He is only in his mid-forties, so he has not retired in the conventional sense, but he will no longer be wearing his Navy uniform or reporting to a Navy base. We will not be changing duty stations every few years and I will not have to worry about his safety (unless they call him back and he says, “Yes.”).

 

I am so proud of him and the ceremony his coworkers held for him. The retirement ceremony is full of pomp and circumstance, as you can imagine. There is a beautiful part of the ceremony during which he honors his spouse and children. He did and I was very touched. I felt like a fraud since I have not had to endure what many of my brethren have had to endure namely deployments and long separations due to training. I had to endure times apart, but usually no longer than a week or two – and he was not in harm’s way though he was away from our sons and me. In short, I have been blessed, so I work for the community in gratitude for my good fortune.

 

While I thought I would begin crying during his speech, I did not. I ended up starting during the flag ceremony. There is a portion of the retirement ceremony during which active duty members of all of the ranks my husband has held line up. The first rank passes it up to the next rank, and so on, all the way to my husband himself. All of those baby faces gradually changing into older faces combined with the beautiful poem about the flag (Olde Glory) just brought it all home for me.

 

My honey is on to the next chapter of his career life. I am proud, touched and happy to have been a part, however small, of his service to his country.