It’s been three months since we ended our relationship with the Army. I never know how to say what happened. I suppose, in an official capacity, we ended our time in service. How everything happened, though, it feels more like we were dumped. In Army terminology, we “separated” from the military. I suppose that works. First we had the merging of our things, then they kicked us out and we had the dividing of our things. Sounds like a divorce to me.

Three months later, though, we’re all doing pretty well. Seamus has finally found his groove and has made a lot of friends at school. He’s doing great in his studies. It’s nice to see him blossom. He has a girlfriend named Marybeth (Mary Beth?) who comes of in the afternoons from the regional school for the deaf and blind next door to his school. She’s hard-of-hearing and he is quite taken with her. I need to ask him if he wants to take her an Easter gift.

Mike seems happier, which I love. He’s been miserable in his work for a long time and to see him smiling and happy again is wonderful. It’s nice to have him back. I missed the old Mike. He says it’s still a bit odd not to be responsible for anyone else (in a leadership capacity), but it’s great not to have the phone ring every weekend with something stupid some soldier of his has done. He started school last week and is enjoying it. 🙂

I’m doing pretty well. I’m still getting used to not being a military wife. It was a label I tried very, very hard to keep off of myself, but it was always there for so many years that I have to stop and remind myself that I am not one anymore. After mourning the loss of the life I knew, I didn’t realize quite how freeing it would be not to have to worry that my husband would be going off to war ever again. Even if they started recalling people tomorrow, we’re done. Not only has he served 8 years past his initial enlistment, he’s damaged goods. They don’t want him.

I’m still looking for a job and trying to make sales on my Etsy store. If I could just get it running, I wouldn’t have to worry about the looking for a job bit. I applied for a cottage license to sell patterns knit by one of my favorite designers, but until that comes through, I suppose I can’t sell the things I’ve knit from her patterns.

All in all, though, we’re all muddling through and doing well, though.

 

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