Through the Forest...

Time has a way of changing perspectives, and life has a way of changing depending on which perspective you are using. If you had told me a year ago that I would be purchasing a home, having a baby, and separating from the Air Force I probably would have laughed at the thought--but perspectives change.

My separation package has gone all the way through AFPC. I have orders in hand. And I am completely at a loss as to what my life will entail come 1 August 2013. My first reaction was fear--fear of not having income, fear of not having the Air Force to fall back on for so many things; the foremost being a sense of purpose and of identity. When you serve your country even for a short amount of time there is a shift that occurs in your mentality. You have become a brother or sister in arms and so much of who you are becomes engrained with the uniform. I can appreciate the identity crisis that occurs in folks who have done 20 years or more. Half of your life has been lived serving and now you are free. What do you do after that? Where do you go? I haven't served for 20 years, but I have served long enough that my professional identity is that of an Air Force officer...I don't know anything else.

You have to look in the mirror and begin to focus on who you are outside of the military. I am a seminary student. I am a soon-to-be mother. I am a wife. A daughter. A friend. I have a home and I have two hands and will develop a new identity as time goes by. I will always cherish the time I served. I am thankful to have had the opportunity and for all the amazing people and places I've been. But there is a new chapter in my life that is beginning. I'm excited for the possibilities to come. I want to start my own business. I need to finish my degree so I can begin helping others in a new way. We think the path is always so clear in the moment...what happens when you hit the forest?

Blessings,

Denora

The Strength of a Child

This past weekend I once again had the amazing opportunity to support a program that I feel is truly making a difference for young people. I've been doing this for five years and every year reaffirms so many things for me--children are so amazing in their capacity to internalize and cope with huge life-changing events like losing a parent or loved one in war or other circumstances.

The program is called TAPS: Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors and information on them can be found here: http://www.taps.org/

Besides the National Good Grief Camp which is held annually in Washington D.C., TAPS also has a myriad of regional camps and activities for families of fallen service members throughout the year. The message we are determined to send is even though your loved one is gone, the military family has not forgotten you--you are important and still very loved.

The reason I keep coming back every year has nothing to do with political beliefs or any reasons other than the true human connection that can exist between hundreds of family members and service members. For four days we coexist in a beautiful partnership to celebrate and remember those who have passed, and as mentors we are privileged to witness the growth of children into young adults. Our only wish is to help these young men and women realize their potential and recognize the beauty of human strength. These children are amazing and they evoke the strongest emotions even in the most stalwart of us who are called to serve.

My heart goes out to all of these families and I hope to still be able to serve for years to come in this capacity. I think this program answers a crucial need in a society who has faced over a decade of active combat--how do we best take care of people when we continuously expose them to the horrors and violence of combat? How do we make sure our children recognize the necessity of their existence, to be the next generation of Americans who will make the hard decisions in this country? The answers I think surprise everyone in their breadth and complexity. I listened to a fourteen year old tell a story about social pressure and suicide, but reaffirm that death is only a temporary release of the pain and would no doubt cause more unnecessary suffering for their family. These are issues we hope no child ever has to face, and yet there are hundreds who have and many more who haven't found help yet. I feel truly blessed to be able to reach out and touch another human being in that capacity, and thankful we have such loving support for each other.

Blessings,

Denora