An end to an era - Transitioning to civilian life

 Here is one last post about this summer, dedicated to my husband's change of command ceremony and transition to civilian life --Our last Navy event, unless we head back for a ball or some fundraiser or someone else's retirement party.

Presenting Dad with an award and a painting

For so many years, this milestone seemed in the distant future; it's hard to believe it is over. Kind of like getting married or kids graduating from high school - distant events when you are 17 or 27, but suddenly they happen, and life goes on. It's a big change that we still haven't really processed completely, I don't think. No more moving because we have to move - only if we want to. No more long separations. But also no more safety nets of fellow military families, no more experiences we'd never have discovered if it weren't for the Navy. No more free medicine and other benefits, like free passes to National Parks. The biggest loss is that piece of identity that constituted immediate belonging when life shifted - we are a military family no longer. 

Back in the old days...Dan returning from deployment to Afghanistan

To mark this transition, it is traditional to have a ceremony and a big party, so of course that's what we did. Fortunately, the summer dip in Covid cases allowed for a large crowd and many family members and friends showed their support by coming out to California one last time to see us (they may be back to see others ...) 

My husband had been making notes for this ceremony for years while attending other retirements. In addition to the traditional elements of a change of command ceremony, he added a few special parts. A chief read a poem he had written. A former CO gave a heartfelt speech and presented an award. His current commandant gave a nice tribute - but accidentally called our daughter Claire "Clark" - a nickname that will stick.  And then my husband presented his mom and my mom flowers, his dad a flag flown over all his duty stations, including Notre Dame, and his kids and me gifts that represented where they were born. Very touching.  Lots of photos were taken, lots of thank yous said, lots of love everywhere.

Teenager working at the pizza/wineshop to make dinner for the cousins and aunts and uncles who arrived. Lotsa pizza.

Good times

Lots of smiles

This sign was changed before we left for the afternoon...

The long horns seem prescient - gathering in the wardroom

Scenes from the ceremony - there is the piping aboard, prayers by the chaplain, singing of the national anthem, remarks from the commandant, presentation of awards, remarks from the outgoing CO (Dan), then the passing of the colors, short remarks by the incoming CO, and then piping ashore, a last sad farewell to a fulfilling career.

An additional element - One of the masterchiefs reading his original poem about what and who "the Navy" is. 

One last family portrait with construction equipment. Sorry they had already removed the American flag in the background...

Pround parents

The kids with their awards

Ladies

The boys

Another family portrait - we are 10!

Siblings

See ya!

Partytime

My little speech and gift - still need to make a print of the real family portrait

Looking back at these photos is hard. The day went by so quickly. There were so many people to hug and to thank. There are a lot more photos, filled with the faces of friends and family who have loved us across the miles and over the years. Notes and gifts also arrived from those who couldn't attend.  I hope the years bring more opportunities for our paths to cross - for intentional gatherings and random run-ins. But there won't be any more long morning walks on the beach, no more book club gatherings with too much food and wine, no more happy hours around the fire pit, no more concerts in the park, no more chitchat in front yards and after Mass and around time. So many dear, dear people have now passed out of our lives. We'll go back to visit, but it won' be the same. We'll be like ghosts haunting from the past, except with those few who have become like family because of the shared memories. We never lived any place long enough before here to form those attachment, which makes this move all that much harder. In addition, it was our choice to leave, although that was the presumption from the time we arrived - we were only passing through. Moving is like a death, more than I want to admit. 

Enough maudlin thoughts for now. The party really was awesome, though, if I do say so myself.  At the party after the party after the ceremony, I should have made a speech. I really did mean to write something down, but somehow I never got around to it. I gave a sort of rambling tribute to friendship and support and praised my husband for being a great guy, but in retrospect it should have been a toast, or something more thoughtful and coherent. Woulda, coulda, shoulda. Missed opportunity number 1212121212.  Does he know how much I love him? Probably not because I have been a real prickly pear lately. Time for another apology and a new day tomorrow. 

Life. It goes on.