Military retirement comes with a lot of lessons learned. Many of those revolve around being better prepared.

Specifically, a lot of spouses find that they – and their veteran – were not financially or emotionally ready to face such a huge transition.

I recently asked a group of “retiree spouses” what their biggest struggle was when their servicemember left the military.

Here are their answers, raw and unedited:

“After 21 years of the military telling my husband what to do, where to go, how to dress … it was just a culture shock to all of the sudden have the freedom to do what you want. The stress to find a new job after retirement was also very real so until that was secured, we were nervous about the financial hits.”

“I know it is said all the time but I would have saved more money and paid off the rest of the debt just to hopefully take off the anxiety of not finding a post-retirement job right away.”

“I think it’s just so many changes at once. I read a book about coping with life transitions and usually just one sets people off. There are several at retirement. I think I took it harder than my husband.”

“Choices. So many choices. You have to ask what do we want to do with our lives? Can I support my family on x?”

“Military to civilian life. The loss of instant community. Also, the money. We saved and had to use a lot of it in the beginning because of late checks.”

“We are close to retirement and living in our first all-civilian community. I'm used to being with spouses who are always trying to improve things. If something needs improving, fixing, help … we get to work. With after action reports or a new policy. For the past year all I've heard is, ‘that's how we've always done it,’ ‘it's tradition.’ . . . Either it doesn't work or could be so much better but they don't care. I have to bite my tongue and go along. We have now decided we have to at least retire near a military installation to be with like-minded people.”

“The emotional toll of leaving our comfort zone. My husband truly went through a grieving process at the end of his career … and I lost my military tribe, the ready-made sisterhood of being a military spouse. We moved away from an installation and not being around that familiarity has been hard for us. We also are struggling to find friends. It's not as quick and easy in a civilian setting. The job, finances, medical ... everything logistical fell into place nicely. It was the emotional side that caused us to struggle. We're 8 months in and I still don't feel that we've found our new normal.”

“We moved away from military and family. I don’t remember ever feeling this lonely. I have made some friends that are on the kids’ emergency call card but they are nothing like my military tribe. Plus I feel “sidelined” watching all my military friends still living the military family lifestyle.”

“One of our downfalls is life insurance. We are hurting now trying to get it. Definitely get it when young and before you retire.”

“I miss the structure. I miss the community. Knowing that we all shared the same joys of returns, the same heartache of deployment. The overwhelming support of other spouses in times of need … I miss my military family I made along the way.”

There was a lot of new information to digest when my husband retired in 2013. A lot of paperwork, a lot of decisions to make and a lot of well, a lot.

A point I missed, and maybe you did too, is that military retiree pay fluctuates with cost of living allowances. So far, that amount has been too miniscule to really notice.

In January, military retirees will receive the largest COLA increase in seven years, a full 2.8 percent pay raise. For those military members at the tippy top of the retirement pay charts that increase could be as much as $369  a month.

For those of us closer to the bottom, the amount isn’t shabby either. For example, according to military.com, retirement pay for an E-7 with 20 years of service will increase by $133 a month. An O-5 with 20 years will receive a $252 increase per month.

According to Military.com, retirees who entered military service on or after Aug. 1, 1986 and opted in for the Career Status Bonus (CSB/Redux retirement plan), have any COLA increases reduced by 1 percent, so they will see a 2019 increase of 1.8 percent or $84 monthly for an E-7 with 20 years of service, or $162 each month for an O-5 with 20 years of service.

Service members receiving VA disability pay will also receive increased checks in the new year. The average VA disability check will go up about $4 per month for those with a 10 percent rating, and $83 for those rated at 100 percent.

Watching Hurricane Florence barrel toward the East Coast this week, my husband said:

“It’s a bad feeling when you think you might lose everything.”

We know that feeling, because a year ago at this time we had just experienced Hurricane Irma’s affects on our new home. And I don’t mean “home,” I mean HOME as in the house we had  purchased less than a month earlier.

The house where we plan to spend at least the next several years until our kids are grown and flown. Maybe even the house we’ll live in the rest of our lives.

We live on the beach in Brevard County, on the East Coast of Florida. We casually watched Irma for a week or so. My husband and I both grew up in Florida, so we know this is the time of year to be extra vigilant.

The bulk of our household goods was delivered on Sept. 5. We joked with the movers about how funny it would be if we got evacuated before we even got unpacked.

The joke was on us. By the next day, Irma was projected to hit us dead on.

We had barely touched any of the 10,000 pounds of stuff that had been delivered. It all sat in boxes throughout the house, most of them still taped up and unopened. At this point, this particular shipment had already been in storage a year. The things that were really important were either safe in my sister’s basement in Indiana, or had been with us for the previous year while we traveled and decided where to live.

But yet here was all this stuff, just sitting there in cardboard boxes, waiting for Irma to steal it away. Worse, of course, was that we had just bought our house. It’s only the second house we’ve ever owned, and we were already pretty fond of it.

Stuff is just stuff. What my husband really meant when he said “losing everything” was that he was most worried about the kids and I getting out of harm’s way.

We left on Friday, Sept. 8, when a mandatory evacuation was issued for our county. We had spent the past two days since our HHG arrived prepping for the storm – boarding up windows, closing up our hurricane shutters, buying water and supplies, etc.

We loaded up our two teens and our two cats, plus a cooler, some cases of water and a few boxes of things, into our SUV and our truck and headed to a friend’s house in Alabama. The trip was crazy long. It was just like you saw on the news – millions of Floridians heading north, gas stations ran out of fuel, desperate travelers (like ourselves) slept in parking lots when our travel time turned out to be double what we expected.

In the end, Irma changed course and didn’t hit our new hometown directly. Instead, her eastern bands battered our community with wind and rain that caused flooding, downed trees, and destroyed several homes.

We started our trek back as soon as the storm passed on Monday, Sept. 11. We drove through the remnants of Irma as she passed over the Florida panhandle as a tropical storm.

We came home to find our house had survived, although we lost several small trees and our roof would have to be replaced. We were without power and water for a few days, and school was cancelled for over a week.

But our stuff, and more importantly our family, was OK.

To all of you out there facing down Hurricane Florence, my family knows how you feel. We’re sending good vibes your way in hopes that your homes and your communities will also escape catastrophic damage.

And most of all, we hope you and your families stay safe, strong and secure. We know you will make it through this, just like you do every challenge military life throws you.

Just when you think you’ve got this retirement thing down, something changes.

This time it’s dental insurance. The single-option Tricare Delta Dental Program, also known as TRDP, will soon be a thing of the past.

Besides the change in dental insurance for retirees, vision insurance will now be available to both retirees and active duty service members.

The new program allows retirees to enroll in the Federal Employees Dental and Vision Insurance Program, or FEDVIP. Active duty personnel will be able to enroll in the vision portion – their current dental coverage will remain the same.

Retirees will be able to choose among 10 different dental plans and price points, rather than the standard one-option only TRDP. Delta Dental will be one of those options, although with different coverage than the current TRDP.

There will be four different vision plans.

Some 3.3 million federal civilian employees are enrolled in FEDVIP, which is administered by the U.S. Office of Personnel Management under the umbrella name BENEFEDS.

The changes go into effect Jan. 1, but you must sign up during the “open season” enrollment period between Nov. 12 and Dec. 10. Anyone who doesn’t sign up then will have to wait until the next enrollment period, unless certain “qualifying life events” happen. It’s not clear from the BENEFEDS website what the QLEs are for retirees, but active duty life events include marriage, birth or a change in active duty status.

Once you enroll, your coverage will continue and you will not have to re-enroll unless you wish to change plans.

Delta Dental, which administers TRDP, is included as one of the options under FEDVIP. Still, retirees using TRDP will automatically lose their dental coverage unless they choose one of the FEDVIP plans. This is true even if you intend to pick Delta Dental as your provider.

What’s covered and what’s not varies among the plans. Some dental plans have waiting periods for orthodontics while others don’t. Anyone considering signing up should research each dental and vision plan carefully. Another good piece of advice is to check with your current dentist and ask which of the plans they will be accepting.

The 2018 prices for a FEDVIP dental family plan in my area of Florida range from about $64.18 per month to $117.15 per month, compared to $115 under TRDP. A 2018 FEDVIP plan for two people runs from $42.79 to 92.80, while singles pay $21.47 to $46.39.

Vision plans for 2018 run from $18.98 to $43.48 per month for a family. Coverage for two people ranges from $13.21 to $28.90, while a single person pays between $6.96 and $14.43.

The BENEFEDS website has a wealth of information on the transition and the new plans, including a plan comparison tool, an FAQ section, a feedback tool and an option to sign up for email alerts.

In addition, BENEFEDS is presenting two webinars leading up to the open enrollment season. The first, titled “Prepare for the 2018 Federal Benefits Open Season Now,” is Oct. 3. The second, titled

“Open Season Is Here! Enroll in FEDVIP Dental and Vision Coverage Today” takes place Nov. 14.

BENEFEDS is also offering an online “Virtual Benefits Fair” from Nov. 12 to Dec. 10. Two of these days – Nov. 13 and Dec. 5 – are set aside as “chat days,” where users can ask questions. You can also log in anytime during those dates to watch instructional videos, review 2019 plan information, download plan brochures and receive information from specific FEDVIP insurance providers.

Representatives from FEDVIP will also be present at several base Retiree Appreciation Days from now through November.

Good luck and happy choosing!

Finding your place in the “real world” after years of being an active duty military spouse isn’t always easy. So many people I know lament the fact that they can’t find friends in their new location, or just don’t feel like they fit in.

I wrote before about my awesome Chick-fil-A bingo buddies. I was lucky to stumble upon this group of retired military spouses on Facebook, and we’ve become fast friends.

But such chance encounters don’t always fall in your lap. Sometimes you have to put yourself out there and aggressively seek out the sisterhood so many of us miss.

Or create it yourself, like my now-friend Catherine did when she started our local military spouse Facebook group, which led to the weekly Chick-fil-A meet-ups, and has since grown to dinners and lunches and breakfasts, movie nights, shopping excursions, beach days … you name it.

So, other than a random FB group that you might be lucky enough to find, how do we do that? How do we find friends with a military background like ourselves? Or how do we find any friends, for that matter?

The first step is pretty easy. Turn to our good friend, Google, and type in military spouses and your area. Or military veterans and your area. Or military clubs and your area. Look for meet-ups or events geared toward military families or veterans. (Don’t forget to check FB, too). 

Nothing?

If you’re near a base, see if they have a spouses’ club that’s open to retirees. Some are. Also consider volunteering on base, or the local VA hospital, or anywhere that veterans and their families might gather. Even if you don’t make friends in those places, you’ll still feel a connection.

Still nothing?

Go broader. Look for national clubs or organizations that might have chapters or events in your area. For example, Team RWB is a nationwide organization for veterans and their families that hosts fitness events, community service projects and fun get-togethers.

Check out specific associations related to the active duty life your veteran lead. There are many groups out there like the Army Engineer Spouses’ Club, or the Steel Magnolias (for spouses of Special Forces soldiers).

If any of those national groups don’t have a chapter in your area, consider starting one yourself. Or start a group for veteran’s families at your church, or your kids’ school.

Of course some of us live in areas with more veterans and retirees than others. I’m in Florida, which seems like the motherland for anyone who ever served in the military, especially retirees.

There’s nothing wrong with expanding your friend zone beyond the military. In fact, it’s probably pretty healthy for your psyche to do so. And some people want nothing more to do with the military after they retire anyway.

So broaden your horizons. Make an effort to become part of your community. Learn the history of where you live. Pick a local organization and volunteer, even for just a few hours a week or at an occasional event. Attend community gatherings like festivals and concerts, or run in races. Take a class at a local art studio or the library. Or just go sit on a bench at your local park.

And you know what? You’ll end up finding those military people, when you least expect it and in the most unlikely places.

Trust me - we’re everywhere.

We just passed our second Fourth of July since we arrived here in Florida last year and completed our last PCS as an Army family.

In the next 12 months we’ll mark our second school year here, our second birthdays here, our second Thanksgiving, our second Christmas and New Year’s and Valentine’s Day and Easter and Memorial Day.

The first year in a new place is always a learning experience. There is trepidation, but also excitement and challenge and stimulation, usually in a good way.

If you hated your last place, the new place is a fresh start. You can try a new job, new hobbies, new friends. You can completely reinvent yourself if you really want to.

And if you loved your last duty station, the first year is a time to grieve. It’s a time to realize that things change - always. Even if you stayed in the same place, others would have moved on. It’s also a time to open yourself up to new experiences, no matter how hard that might be.

You know what both those scenarios remind me of? A rebound relationship.

And just like a rebound relationship, by the end of that first year you almost always realize that everything will be OK.

Then comes that second year, and it’s a whole new ballgame.

For us, the second year at most duty stations was also our last. So just when we hit our stride and got over that last great (or awful) duty station, and made new friends and passed all our first milestones in our new home, we were celebrating our last ones there, too.

That second year was always a weird time of looking backward and forward all at once. It was when I started to compartmentalize my memories and emotions to make room for whatever was to come at the next place.

But this second year is different.

I was fine with leaving Army life behind and, honestly, hadn’t thought about it much until the past few weeks.

Then, the “seconds” started.

 And so did the looking back.

Suddenly, I’m gripped with emotions. I find myself in tears at anything remotely military-related – a Facebook post about a friend’s retirements, seeing service members in uniform at the commissary, even those USAA commercials.

Is it delayed grief at leaving that life behind? Nostalgia for what was but will never be again? Loneliness? Fear?

Not exactly.

We left the Army at the perfect time for us. We loved that life and have many fond memories and lifelong friends, but we’ve moved on. We’re doing our best to put down roots here and become a part of the community. We’re settling in, hopefully at least for the next five years until our kids are in college.

This time, our second year here isn’t our last. And our third and fourth years probably won’t be, either.

The best way to describe what I feel right now, as the second milestones start hurtling by one after another?

Lost.

Not because of where I am or where I’ve been, but because of where I’m not going.

By Amy Nielsen

My husband and I are on the fence about maybe going on the road with our rv and road-schooling our kids while we both finish our degrees and licensure over the next couple years.

He finally comes to a point where he can retire from government service but still has a couple years left on his degree, while I have another year in this program and then a year of internship hours to complete before I sit for my license.

My program is mostly online with a few on campus classes. One of those on campus classes, that meets every three, has regularly scheduled quizzes. In between we have online assignments to complete. Like most professors, this one recycles the same class materials semester after semester so the majority of the course is already laid out. However, having a live component means this class has more flexibility than those taught solely online. The professor has just assigned us a pop quiz as punishment for not paying attention in class.

Although I am a student, I am also an adult and pop quizzes make me craycray. This is a master’s program not sixth grade. Not only do I expect my fellow students to act like it, I expect my professors to act like it too. If a segment of the student population is not doing the work, then it behooves the professor to take it up with them, not pop a quiz on the whole class on a holiday week.

So now that my delightful professor has decided to add a pop quiz to our line-up, due no less at midnight on July 4^th, my holiday week schedule has gone from mildly invigorating to downright insane. I already have a plan in place to cope with my online classes and homework for this week, as we knew we wouldn’t have the week off for vacation. What I wasn’t planning was spending the extra hours studying for this quiz on top of it all. And - it all - is a whole lot this time around.

We - as a family - are still in the reunification process post military retirement. It’s kind of like the mother of all post deployment re-integrations that no one bothers to tell you about. Pictures of post retirement reunification time are all smiles, vacations, and gardens. It’s more akin to that oh so fun postpartum period they gloss over with smiling babies, only longer.

It’s been five years and I finally feel like we are sort of now living in the same household, though he still works an odd hours government job and the shifting schedule has made the reintegration slower. Part of the drive to go tiny and mobile is to allow us the chance to be inseparable for the first time in our lives. Inseparable is inconceivable to most military spouses. We just never get the chance to even try it out.

Like many families, the week of Independence Day is one I like to take as vacation. Every year, the first week of July, a conference is held that hosts both medical professionals and families living with my daughter’s rare condition. This year, with the actual holiday falling on a Wednesday, we finally have my husband’s work schedule sorted out so that we can all go. We have not yet been to this convention as it travels around the country and is always on the opposite side of the country from where we happen to be stationed. Now that we are retired and stationary, the conference location cycle has finally come around to hosting it in a city local enough that we can attend.

My school doesn’t recognize this week as a holiday week. We run on a trimester schedule. We take a month off in January and August. So I have a full course load of work to complete this week. It is also midterm and we are deep in the weeds on our projects. I travel a lot already. I live in the northeast and my school is in the mid-atlantic. I travel to campus regularly for classes. I travel to symposium, gatherings, and lectures that pertain to my area of interest. I also travel a lot for fun. I always have. Working on the road, even with my kids in tow is not new to me.

I have it all planned. While driving out, my husband and I can swap the task while the other reads papers, books, or listens to lectures. Then when we get to the conference, I could do early morning school as I do at home, while he takes late nights. That way we will have one parent available to go to the daily classes, panel discussions, group meet-ups, and fun activities planned with our kids. Being the tenth year, this conference is so big it burst the hotel and they had to close registration. It is going to be epic!

Two weeks ago the bricks started raining. Our kennel called to say that they had a family emergency and were going to be closing the kennel for the summer. So we scrambled to find a place to care for our pup while we were away. We found a solution, but it certainly wouldn’t be ideal. But we got it covered.

Then the RV got a flat in the driveway. Do you know how hard it is to get an RV towed out of a steep single lane gravel driveway? A slight financial panic and the grace of a neighbor with a heavy duty air compressor and we got that one solved.

As would happen, seeing as he is still a government employee, my husband’s schedule got shifted due to budget constraints. So he is now going to be staying home. The kennel situation got better but the parenting divide got exponentially greater.

Driving out and back is not an issue. I drive the same distance regularly. The school work on top of the fun isn’t really an issue. My professor can bite it, for sure, but I’ll cram it into my planning. The kennel closing wasn’t even the straw; heck, we’d just take the pup with us and figure it out – Semper Gumby!

What hurts is not having my husband with us for the experience, again. To not share, again. That even though he is retired, and family separation is supposed to be over, he is not here, again. To have the universe conspire so neatly. Every. Single. Time.

I recently asked my husband his lessons learned from retirement. I thought it might be nice to get the servicemember / retiree perspective on things.

As usual, he was quick to point out that he’s no expert and his advice may or may not be welcome. And that everybody’s situation is different. And that what might work for one couple or family might not work for another.

Of course he’s right.

But I told him there is value in hearing from someone who’s been there, done that.

So he rattled off the first four things that popped into his mind, in no particular order. I’ve expanded on a few of them a little, but all are sound words of wisdom:

1. Travel Space A while on terminal leave. We’ve talked about this a couple of times before. Traveling Space A while still active duty puts you in a higher category than retirees. And if you’re lucky, you have the benefit of lots of leave time so you can sign up early. We went Space A to Hawaii after retirement, and kicked ourselves for not doing it, and maybe some other trips, during our 120 days of terminal leave.
2. Consider trying to get your last duty station in a place you’d like to retire to, or at least where you could be happy living during the first year or two. I didn’t really agree when he first said this, and it should also be noted that this was our original plan but it didn’t work out for us. That being said, there are some definite benefits to having a home set up, friends, kids settled in school, possibly a working spouse and just a place where you feel comfortable – maybe not forever, but at least while working out the kinks of leaving the military. There are a lot of costs associated with moving and setting up a new home. Not to mention possible months of uncertainty while deciding where to go or what you want to do, or waiting for job offers. There’s nothing wrong with just paying for a while while you figure out.
3. Go to one of the online retirement calculators right now, no matter how many years you’ve been in, and figure out your retirement under different scenarios. How much would you make at 20 years, 25, or even 30? It doesn’t matter if it’s you’re an E-1 or an 06, knowledge – especially financial knowledge – is power. Once you have that number you can start to make plans and goals for your future, including saving and investing when you are able to.
4. Get your medical issues documented. He did add this caveat: Do it as soon as you are comfortable with your command knowing everything that is wrong with you. He really started documenting everything about two years out, once he knew he was going to retire, didn’t need to be on jump status and was unlikely to deploy on short notice. Like many who are still active duty, he did not want to risk being put on a profile. From a spouse perspective, of course this is hard for us to accept. Either way, get everything documented as soon as possible so that any disability claim can go more smoothly. It also just helps to know where you stand health-wise before leaving the military.

And at the end of our conversation he added this: “The bottom line is, be prepared. We didn’t really do that as much as we should have, but we got lucky and it all worked out.” Ha!

The other night, after my spouse had loaded the dishwasher after dinner without being asked, I went into the kitchen to add a few stray dishes and push the start button.

First, though, I rearranged everything - that glass should be on the top, that bowl should be facing the other way, the silverware should be sorted by type into each basket with the knives pointing down …

Wait. Why was I doing this?

Because that’s the way I’ve always done it.

For 26 years before my husband retired from the military, I did things my own way. I didn’t necessarily think my way was perfect. But, spending more than half our marriage without him, my way was usually the only way. There was no else around to do things any differently.

The same was true of pretty much any adulting done around our house. I had my own system to pay the bills (and sometimes juggle accounts to stretch things until their due dates, or pay something late, with no one being any the wiser). I shopped for insurance, applied for mortgages, picked out houses, bought cars. I decided what to eat, shopped for it and cooked it. I cleaned the house. I did the laundry.

Often times I worked full time, too, but my job was never as demanding as his so it always made me sense for me to do the bulk of the domestic chores. Plus, I was home alone so much that it didn’t much matter.

He did help out when he could, but that always felt like when a guest comes for dinner and offers to clean the table afterward – it’s a nicety in return for something you did for them.

Like many of you, the biggest duty I took on by myself was parenting. For the last 15 years, again with my husband gone more than half the time, I played the role of both “good parent” and “bad parent” to our two kids, being the “fun” one and the “hard” one at the same time.

During deployments, especially, it was me and the kids against the world. The three of us together were a well-oiled machine. They knew that I was the one – the only one - who would fulfill all their needs on a daily basis. As the kids grew into teenagers, we each knew our role in the family and how to respond to – and soothe – each others’ stresses. We knew how to make each other laugh, and we knew when to back off.

Then my husband went on terminal leave, followed by retirement. He was home with us 24/7. Twenty-months later, he’s still here.

Suddenly there was a fourth member of our merry little band.

We’ve all had to adjust. The kids have had to get used to letting dad in our private jokes. They’ve taught him our routines and traditions. They’ve started to sense his moods and learn his quirks, just like they know mine.

I realized it wasn’t that my spouse didn’t want to be an equal parent and domestic partner. He didn’t know to be those things.

And I didn’t know how to let him.

I was used to being the queen bee, and running the house on my terms, the way I wanted. After almost two years, we are still adjusting. The latest sign of progress: Tonight I thanked him for loading the dishwasher, and I didn’t touch a single thing in it. 

Here are seven things I’m working on being better at, to help my spouse feel like a better husband, dad and partner:

• When you need (or just want) something done, ask. “Hey, can you please go switch the laundry over?” is a good start. My husband’s almost always happy to do things when I ask, and at first he waited for me to ask because he didn’t know what he should be doing, if anything. It may seem obvious to us, the ones who have been doing it alone all these years. But it isn’t so obvious to our frazzled spouses who are just struggling to fit in in their own homes.
• Acknowledge the good stuff, and don’t complain about the bad. “I really like the way you grilled that chicken last night.” And if the dishwasher isn’t loaded just right? Trust me, the dishes will still get clean.
• Give options, but not necessarily an option to say no. “Both kids have activities at the same time tonight. Which one do you want to attend?” Of course, don’t be mad if your spouse picks the easy route. I recently gave mine the choice of picking one kid up at swim practice, or taking the other to the dentist. Bet you can’t guess which one he chose - and I can’t say that I blame him!
• Let your partner be a parent. Learning to relate to the kids was one of the hardest things for my husband. He was reluctant to say a single harsh word to them, even when they deserved it. I also don’t always agree with his parenting style (nor does he agree with mine.) But neither of us is right or wrong, as long as the end result is the one we agreed upon. I’m learning to sit back and let him handle situations on his own. He’ll never become comfortable as a parent if I don’t give him the chance to be one.
• Be grateful. A little appreciation goes a long way, as does a little praise. Thank him for putting the groceries away, even if he did put the cereal next to the cat food.
• Create a to-do list. My husband has done this a few times recently and it has been a great communications tool. He makes a list of things that need to be done, then we decide who will do what.
• Relax. Give up the power. This relates to most of the things above. I don’t need to control everything. And, really, who wants that responsibility? For once in my life, post-retirement, I have someone to share it all with. And that is something to embrace and celebrate.

My husband says I can make a new best friend in line at the commissary.

I’ll bet many of you are the same way – you move to a new place, and within five minutes you’ve met someone who will be the emergency contact for your kids’ school. Or the person who will be your go-to pet sitter. Or even someone you’ll spend more time with over the next two years than you do with your husband.

That’s military life. We bond fast.

And we bond hard

Friendships are not so easily forged in the civilian world.

We were in our new home for six months before I had one local Facebook friend. I was flummoxed by my inability to meet people and, when I did, the lack of common interests with which to start a conversation.

People were nice and friendly, even more so than I expected. I know some other parents through my kids’ activities. I started doing some volunteer work with a local organization that I care about and made some great acquaintances.

But it just wasn’t the same.

Then something magical happened.

A retired military spouse named Catherine, who was also feeling a little lonely, started a Facebook page for spouses in our local area. Though the group is open to any spouse, those of us who are married to retirees seemed more attracted to it – or maybe more in need of it.

The page grew by word of mouth and in a few months it had grown to 140 members. There is a core group of eight or ten of us who get together regularly. We’ve done coffee-type events at people’s houses, paint and sip parties, movie nights, breakfast dates, lunch dates, dinner dates, shopping trips and even a beach cleanup.

We also play breakfast bingo every week at Chick Fil A.

Other than the PTA spaghetti and bingo night at my kids’ school in Germany, I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually played bingo sober before.

But let me tell you, these ladies know how to have fun, even at 8:30 on a Thursday morning at a fast food restaurant.

Chick Fil A bingo was my first “event” a few months ago. One of the ladies in that spouses’ FB group posted that she was going, and I figured, why not?

That first time meeting up was like a blind date. I had her FB profile pulled on my phone, so I could see her picture. The only thing that would have made it funnier was if I had to swipe right.

Some weeks we have more than half dozen from our group join us, other times it’s just one or two.  Some have little kids at home. Some are grandparents. Some have full-time careers or go to school, or both.

But no matter what, the conversation is easy and lively and funny.

Before this group, I was struggling with the lack of social interaction. I don’t miss the military at all, and I talk regularly to several friends who are military spouses, both still active and retired.

But, as much as I love those sisters, it’s not the same as being right in front of someone and becoming friends in the context of where our lives are now, post-military.

It took a lot of moxie for Catherine to start that FB page. I am forever grateful to her for that.

It also took a lot of gumption for each of us to blindly walk into a meet up at Chick Fil A, the movies, or Panera Bread, having no connection to each other besides the fact that our husbands were once in the military.

And the weird thing is, we rarely talk about the military. I don’t even know which service most of the other women’s husbands served, or their rank.

We’re just regular people now, no longer known to each other simply because our spouse’s serve in the same unit, or because we met at a “mandatory fun” event.

We were brought together by one small shred of military commonality, and we’re bound by embracing the changes we are all going through in life after the military.

It’s a new kind of sisterhood, to go with whatever the new normal is for each of us.

It’s comfortable. It’s familiar.

It feels like home.