May seems so long ago, like a lifetime has passed since I shed the title “military academy parent,” something I’ve held dear for these past nine years.
When my daughter crossed the stage, accepted her diploma, shook hands and delivered her first salute as an officer, all I felt was pride and joy – proud of her for accomplishing this incredible task and joy for and for our family.
I spent the days after Commissioning hiking, first in the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, then in Arches and Canyonlands National Parks. The Black Canyon in particular was good for the soul. Something about those stunning views helped me reset.
Months have passed and things are good – my son the submariner is enjoying his shore duty as a Navy recruiter and my daughter wound up stationed just 2 hours down the road. There’s so much to be joyful about – and I am happy. But there was something else.
I couldn’t put my finger on it. A few months ago, though, I realized that this was the first time in nine years I had no kid-related trip planned. There were no weekends in Annapolis on the docket. I wasn’t getting reminders about the AirBnB in Colorado Springs or the flights to Denver.
It didn’t bother me that I had shed that title of military academy parent, but there was something about that rhythm of the last nine years governing my schedule, something of a comfort.
Especially for the past four years, I knew there would be trips out West to Colorado and a summer adventure with my cadet as I spent the rest of the year trying to stay connected with my submariner. I had adjusted to life in the Fleet, but still had one foot in academy parent life.
It eluded me until I was reading a post online and someone used a phrase once part of our casual conversations but had slipped out of regular use – feelin’ some kinda way.
And, somehow, that explained it for me. It wasn’t sad. It wasn’t nostalgic. It wasn’t overwhelming joy. I was – and am – feelin’ some kinda way.
Since my son disconnected from his boat, I can say that my anxiety and stress levels are lower. Having my daughter two hours away instead of two time zones is a comfort. But, it’s different. Not better or worse, just different.
So maybe that’s what “feelin’ some kinda way” really means — living in the space between what was and what’s next. It’s not about longing or loss, just acknowledging change. For now, I’ll embrace this new rhythm, the same way I learned to embrace the rhythm of academy life.
And like that part of the journey, I’ll learn as I go — some kinda way.
My Kid The Mid 