They were there all along

  • Published
  • By Airman 1st Class Lauren Sixbey
  • 90th Space Wing Public Affairs
F.E. WARREN AIR FORCE BASE, Wyo. (AFPN) --  For no apparent reason, a co-worker asked to speak with me in his office. After the door clicked shut he said, “Word on the street is you’re not doing so well.”

I was floored. How could I have let it show? I’d been doing such a good job of hiding it. The past three months of carefully shrouding my thoughts and true feelings were being called out on the carpet. I didn’t know what to say. Then a feeling of relief washed over me.

Three and a half months earlier I had said goodbye to my husband, a Marine deploying to Camp Fallujah, Iraq, for seven months.

I will never forget our last moments together. It wasn’t like I thought it would be. In the movies there are dozens, if not hundreds of people saying their good byes as well. There is somber yet heroic music being played in the background and there are tears a plenty.

When we arrived at Camp Pendleton, Calif., in the middle of the night on Aug. 7, there were no more than 15 other Marines and only one other wife. A burly staff sergeant was there barking orders. We spent nearly an hour just getting his things in order. He was busy getting his weapon and ammo issued, while I tagged his sea bags and picked up his three MREs.

When there was nothing else to do but wait, we sat in near silence on the cold pavement and held each other knowing it would be more than half a year before we’d be able to see each other again. Neither of us cried then, probably because we didn’t want to draw the attention of the other Marines. All of the sudden the same staff sergeant who was issuing orders yelled, “Devil Dogs, get on the bus!” According to my husband’s itinerary he wasn’t supposed to leave for another hour. I easily forgave the staff sergeant though. It was an excruciating time and I was almost relieved that the horrible good bye was over.

I went to work the following Monday morning like nothing had happened. I put on a brave and cheerful face so that no one would guess my anguish. Unfortunately it worked. Everyday I went to work my co-workers asked me how I was doing. I smiled and always gave a similar positive response. I have always been good at hiding emotions.

After an especially difficult few months, dealing with my husband’s deployment and a particularly hard personal issue, I was at the end of my rope. There are no support groups for someone like me who is in an inter-service marriage without a joint spouse assignment. I sunk into a depression unlike any I’d ever experienced.

On Nov. 12, during Air Force Space Command’s Wingman Focus Day, I acted like everything was fine as usual. The office staff went to the club for lunch and to play pool. The following Monday was when my co-worker talked to me.

I don’t know what came over me, but at that moment everything that had been held up inside for the past three and a half months came spilling out. He sat there patiently listening to me. Before I left the room he set up an appointment for me to talk to one of our chaplains the same day.

I always knew that chaplains were there for us, but I didn’t think my problems were severe enough to merit getting help. The calmness I felt as I left the chapel that day was incredible.

Neither my co-worker nor the chaplain judged me. My greatest fear was unfounded. If only I hadn’t been so afraid a few months ago, I probably would have spared myself a lot of pain.

I don’t know if it was our focus day that prompted my co-worker’s concern or if it was something he had been thinking about for a while, but I’m glad he took the time out to help me. I know that the next few months will be much easier than the last few because I have got a support system all around me. They have been there the entire time, I just never noticed.