The Career That Did Not Magically Reappear After the Funeral

Day 2 of Still Part of the Military Family: The Surviving Spouse Gap

There is an assumption buried inside a lot of conversations about military surviving spouses:

The service member died, survivor benefits begin, and eventually the surviving spouse goes back to work.

Simple enough.

Except there is one small problem.

The career we might have had before military life did not spend all those years patiently waiting for us to come back.

It did not magically reappear after the funeral.

For many military surviving spouses, employment after loss is not simply a matter of updating a résumé and applying for jobs.

We may be trying to rebuild careers that were interrupted repeatedly by the demands of military service, PCS moves, deployments, childcare, caregiving, geographic restrictions, licensing requirements, and the needs of the service member's career.

Then our spouse dies.

Suddenly, the military career around which the family built its life is gone.

And the surviving spouse may be standing there with twenty years of life experience and a résumé that an applicant-tracking system sees as a collection of gaps.

"Why Haven't You Worked?"

That question can look very different when you have lived the military spouse life.

Why is there a two-year job here?

PCS.

Why is there an eight-month gap?

Deployment and childcare.

Why did you leave that position?

Orders.

Why didn't you finish the degree then?

Orders again.

Why didn't you pursue that promotion?

We already knew we were moving.

Why did you change industries?

There were not many jobs in my field at the next duty station.

Why haven't you worked for the last several years?

I was caring for my dying spouse.

These are not excuses.

They are the employment consequences of military life.

Yet when military spouses and surviving spouses enter the civilian workforce, those consequences often become ours alone to explain.

The Service Member Had a Career. The Family Had a Mission.

Military families make decisions differently from many civilian households because one person's employment is not particularly negotiable.

The military decides where the service member works.

The military decides when the family moves.

The military decides when the service member deploys.

The military decides when there will be training.

The military decides whether the family is going to Texas, Tennessee, Germany, Korea, Alaska, or somewhere the spouse's professional license is about as useful as a Blockbuster membership card.

The military spouse adapts.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Sometimes that means finding another job.

Sometimes it means accepting a lower-paying job.

Sometimes it means changing careers.

Sometimes it means staying home because childcare costs more than the spouse can earn.

Sometimes it means putting college on hold.

And sometimes it means becoming a caregiver.

Every one of those decisions can have consequences years later.

Then Caregiving Enters the Picture

There is another employment gap that deserves considerably more attention.

Military caregivers can spend years managing medications, appointments, medical records, insurance, benefits, transportation, household responsibilities, children, and increasingly complex medical needs.

That is work.

It just usually does not come with a W-2.

Caregiving can require project management, scheduling, research, advocacy, recordkeeping, crisis management, communication with medical professionals, insurance navigation, financial management, and enough bureaucracy to qualify someone for an honorary master's degree in paperwork.

But put "family caregiver" on a résumé and see how many employers recognize those skills.

Worse, when the person you were caring for dies, society seems to assume your life simply resets.

Caregiving ended.

Now go back to work.

Except you are not returning to the workforce from where you left it.

Technology changed.

Industries changed.

Certifications expired.

Professional networks disappeared.

Former colleagues moved on.

Your skills may need updating.

And now there is a giant hole in your résumé that you somehow have to explain without making the interviewer uncomfortable.

Grief Apparently Has a Deadline

Then there is timing.

Bills do not particularly care that your spouse died.

Mortgages do not observe bereavement.

Insurance premiums do not send sympathy cards.

Groceries remain stubbornly committed to costing money.

A surviving spouse may need employment relatively quickly.

But grief does not operate according to an HR calendar.

Imagine trying to rebuild your professional identity while simultaneously dealing with casualty paperwork, military records, VA claims, Social Security, insurance, banking, estate issues, housing, children's grief, your own grief, and the administrative nightmare created when one half of a household suddenly disappears.

Now polish the résumé.

Create a LinkedIn profile.

Learn the latest applicant-tracking-system tricks.

Network.

Smile during the interview.

Explain the employment gap.

And please demonstrate enthusiasm for this exciting new opportunity.

It is a peculiar way to start over.

Survivor Benefits Are Not a Career

This is also why conversations about survivor benefits and employment should not be treated as competing issues.

Survivor benefits matter.

They are not charity.

They exist because military service created obligations that continue after a service-connected death.

But benefits do not replace a career.

A career provides more than a paycheck.

It creates retirement savings.

Social Security earnings.

Professional experience.

Raises.

Promotions.

Networks.

Credentials.

Economic independence.

And, for many people, identity and purpose.

If a military spouse loses years of career development because the family supported military service, the economic effect can continue for decades.

Death does not erase that effect.

In some cases, it magnifies it.

Starting Over Is Expensive

People often talk about "starting over" as though it is inspirational.

Sometimes it is.

Sometimes starting over means looking at your résumé in your 40s or 50s and realizing you are competing against applicants who spent the last twenty years moving steadily through one profession.

They accumulated twenty years of promotions.

You accumulated five duty stations.

They built professional networks.

You rebuilt your network every few years.

They contributed consistently to retirement accounts.

Your household prioritized the military career because that was the career that determined where the family lived.

They became senior professionals.

You became extremely good at starting over.

And then someone looks at your résumé and asks why your career lacks "progression."

That question deserves a much larger conversation.

Employers Can Do Something About This

Not every solution requires Congress.

Employers can change how they evaluate military spouses, caregivers, and surviving spouses.

Stop treating every employment gap as evidence of a problem.

Ask what happened during the gap.

Recognize caregiving as experience.

Look at transferable skills rather than job titles alone.

Consider the organizational abilities required to move a household repeatedly.

Recognize volunteer leadership, nonprofit work, advocacy, community service, and continuing education.

Create return-to-work programs that include surviving spouses and caregivers, not just traditional career returners.

And perhaps most importantly:

Stop assuming an unconventional career path means an unqualified candidate.

There is an enormous amount of talent hiding behind messy résumés.

Military and Veteran Organizations Have a Role Too

Organizations that claim to support military families should examine whether their employment programs follow families through every stage of military life.

Active-duty spouse?

Absolutely.

Transitioning family?

Absolutely.

Veteran spouse?

Absolutely.

Surviving spouse?

That last category should not require hesitation.

Career support should not disappear precisely when economic independence may matter most.

Surviving spouses may need résumé assistance, certification programs, mentoring, networking, skills translation, internships, returnships, education, and connections with employers who understand military-family employment histories.

And those programs should not arbitrarily disappear because the surviving spouse is 35, 45, 55, or because the children grew up.

A spouse does not stop carrying the economic consequences of military life because the DEERS record changed.

Government Has a Role Too

Congress and state legislatures should also look beyond survivor compensation when discussing economic security.

Ask what happens five years after the funeral.

Ten years later.

Twenty.

What is the employment rate of surviving spouses?

What are their average earnings?

How much retirement wealth was lost because of military-related career interruptions?

How many spent years as caregivers?

How many need retraining?

How many cannot access employment programs because they no longer fit somebody's definition of a "military spouse"?

How many programs distinguish between surviving spouses based on the service member's cause or circumstances of death?

Before we design another program, perhaps we should first determine where surviving spouses are actually falling through the existing ones.

And Yes, This One Is Personal

I know what starting over looks like.

I supported my husband's military career.

I became his caregiver.

After he died, I had to figure out what came next.

I went back to school.

I learned new skills.

I spent years learning legislative advocacy and working on issues affecting military members, veterans, survivors, and their families.

I built experience.

I built relationships.

I learned legislation, policy, coalition building, nonprofit work, research, communications, and government relations.

And now, in my 50s, I am still answering one of the most basic questions:

What do I want to be when I grow up?

Except this time the question comes with a mortgage.

There is humor in that.

There is also something fundamentally wrong with a system that can benefit from a spouse's sacrifices for decades and then act surprised when that spouse needs help rebuilding a career afterward.

We Did Our Part

Military spouses are frequently praised for their resilience.

I appreciate the sentiment.

But "resilient" should not become shorthand for:

You'll figure it out.

Resilience does not fix a résumé.

It does not restore twenty years of lost retirement contributions.

It does not renew an expired professional license.

It does not replace a professional network.

And it does not magically produce a career after the funeral.

Military spouses spend years adapting so their families can support military service.

When those spouses become surviving spouses, we should not simply congratulate them on their strength and send them into the civilian workforce alone.

We can do better than that.

Employers can do better.

Nonprofits can do better.

Government can do better.

And the military community can do better.

Because supporting military families should not end when the uniform is folded and handed to the surviving spouse.

Our spouse's military career ended.

Ours should not have to start from zero.

Tomorrow: When How They Died Determines Whether You Belong.