This is Chapter 5 in our Mighty MilSpouse Retirement Memoir, a monthly series written in real-time by military spouse Lindsay Swoboda. Read Chapter 1: Now What, Chapter 2: Don’t Stay for the Comfort, Chapter 3: Help is On the Way, and 4:. Mark the Time
was in sixth grade when the movie Titanic came out. While my primary focus was on the heart flutters I felt for Leonardo DiCaprio playing the fated and devilishly handsome Jack, I also distinctly remember watching the crew attempt to send the frantic Morse code signal across open seas in the hope of being saved.
SOS was one of the few acronyms I believed I knew coming into military life.
I thought SOS meant “Save Our Ship,” or “Save Our Souls,” but in fact, after a bit of research this summer on Britannica Online, SOS is not an acronym at all! To clarify for all of those shocked along with me, SOS is an internationally recognized distress signal, and as Britannica shares: “This sequence is simple and easy to remember, making it an effective way to notify others of an emergency.”
Is SOS efficient Morse code communication? Yes. But it is not an acronym. This blew my mind, especially as my husband Ryan and I devised how to empower ourselves with variations of SOS for the summer of 2025. It feels as if various distress signals have started to bleat from within our house. Like the one obnoxious smoke detector that loses batteries and begins to chirp, then the rest chime in— we have been hunting down and attempting to address a growing list of grating worries.
I can’t say we weren’t warned or supported. Ryan has been to TAPs, we have multiple check-out sheets, and planning tools. I found encouragement in the MilSpouse Transition Program. But it is one thing to hear advice, quite another to apply it. It is one thing to know change is coming, another to experience it and take agency over the situation. While transitioning from the military was once a slow and far-off process, this summer we have found retirement on our doorstep and with it, a delivery of not only emotional baggage, but also financial.
We decided this summer to face our biggest fears about the transition process. SOS has become a beacon of intentional challenges we set for ourselves. It began as a “Summer of Savings,” but we’ve also embraced a “Summer of Surprise,” and a “Summer of Surrender.”
Summer of Savings: Readying Finances for Post-Active Duty
“Do you think we can really do this?”
I asked Ryan to review our financial spreadsheet in June 2025. “All we can do is try,” he responds, and thus begins our attempt to live on what we project will be our pension amount, including a small percentage of VA disability, since we don’t have the final claim yet. Our goal? See if this is even feasible. What can we live with and without? How often do we get things we want but don’t need? We soon discover that we can live off the selected amount, but it is a stretch.
While every veteran family’s financial needs will look different, we are still supporting two growing kiddos, and our one debt is a mortgage payment. I work, but as an independent contractor, and my secondary income is sporadic; we’ve never counted on it as a steady source. However, by focusing our energy on the amount allotted for the summer, we’re able to save thousands of dollars each month.
The Summer of Savings empowers us to realize that while Ryan job hunts, we have some margin for the time it may take to secure something that meets not just our requirements, but could bring renewed purpose after active-duty life. Our SOS challenge brings us together as a tighter team, as we discuss adventures we’d love to take the family on and plan purchases to save for. It gathers us in the kitchen, where we cook from scratch almost every night.
We find out when the free summer movie showings are at the local cinema, cancel extra streaming subscriptions, go to the library, and say “yes” when friends offer us a free day at SeaWorld on their season passes. I take the kids to stay with their grandparents for vacation instead of going on an extra summer trip this year. Not only do we save financially, but the past three months have also given us a reminder: time is the sweetest gift, and there is a lot we can do for fun that doesn’t cost a thing.
We are investing in the vision we have for our lives outside of active duty. Summer of Savings brought me some sanity and reduced my anxiety about the upcoming costs. I know there will still be surprises we can’t account for, but I also know we can buckle down and support one another through them.
Summer of Surprise + Surrender
SOS Summer came with unanticipated surprises and surrender. For example, in June, we attended our last mandatory family fun day. I don’t know if other branches call it this, but USMC family time has always been nicknamed “Mando Fun,” and while it started as an eye-rolling endeavor, as the “elder” spouse, I now understand how precious these days are. I don’t know many careers that open up the BBQ pit, roll out cornhole, and force you to attend with your family, but this career has.
On those sweaty days together with Marines and their families, we’ve laughed, checked in with newcomers, eaten the chips, and played the games. While everyone rolled up a little weary, I noticed people left with their shoulders more relaxed. This is what it means to serve alongside one another. To show up for a mundane, mandatory picnic, and hey, find a friend. I had an ugly cry about it the night after we left our final one. I just couldn’t believe that was it—the end of mando Marine Corps fun.
That has been part of the surprise of the summer: the surrender of what we can and cannot control. The grief that has come over us in unanticipated, strange moments. It has been a Summer of Surrender as we face our grief, untangling ourselves from this lifestyle. Where do we belong? What is the next mission? I once heard author Anne Lamott say, “Publishing won’t heal you,” and I find this to be true about my own experiences as an author and in leaving the military.
Retirement won’t heal you.
Completing a big, fantastic project won’t heal you, either.
When the blaring horns of success fade, you are still you—dealing with some of the same issues. Ryan and I are working through the wounds we endured in military life, both together and apart from each other.
I found myself at a different level of exhaustion in early August as I rolled off of book launch season and summer excitement to discover it felt like I had made it through the high stakes of a PCS season, but I didn’t go anywhere. I felt strung out and scheduled some doctor appointments because there have been physical alarms blaring, too. But everything has checked out fine. I’m in stellar health. It’s the stress that is tap, tap, tapping like Morse code.
So here we are. Facing our last month “in” active duty and without clear answers toward what’s next. It feels like while we’ve navigated a lot, we’re only looking at the tip of the iceberg (I couldn’t help but bring back the Titanic reference). We’re crying, we’re laughing, we’re saving our money, and we’re still living each day, getting to know this new stage of our lives. It’s messy.
I’m not sure if there is a clean or streamlined way to approach retirement. I can say there will be discomfort. But with that discomfort comes a challenge: what steps can we take to address our biggest concerns? Our SOS summer has been a catalyst for health, for the hidden wounds to begin revealing themselves, and for us to figure out how to start answering our cries for help.
