Veterans Day Thoughts 2021

A few weeks ago I was asked if I knew anyone who could help drive a veteran and his wife to the beach one last time as they have made the decision to begin hospice care.  I got the preliminary details including a timeline of departure in 2 days and that he was an Army officer and Green Beret.  I already knew I would try to see if I could fit into my schedule to help, but then they said he was a graduate of West Point which tugged at my heart strings.  And then, they said his name. 

Darren.

Major Darren Baldwin endured multiple IEDs (improvised explosive device) in a short amount of time during one of his deployments to Iraq in 2006.  (Yes, one of his deployments, as he had 3). 

At that time the medical community was still in its infancy understanding TBIs (traumatic brain injury) from IEDs and his health began to suffer.  But, that’s not what I want to focus on.  I don’t want to talk about his injury, I want to talk about his life that I got to be a part of for a brief four days.

Bianca is Darren’s wife and has been his caretaker for 16 years.  She also has never met me or heard of me, and I literally showed up on her doorstep in Fayetteville to say, “Hi, I’m Sarah and I’ll be spending the next 4 days with you.”

She was so warm, welcoming, and honestly pretty funny, ushering me into her home.  After we puzzle pieced all the medical equipment and luggage into their vehicle, and I accidentally drove over two gas station curbs as I quickly learned how to maneuver the large tank they call an handicap accessible SUV, we were on our way to Carolina Beach.

Driving was easy, being there to provide support while watching a couple say goodbye was more difficult.  At this point Darren is in a wheelchair and mostly unable to move from the neck down.  He communicates with his incredibly expressive eyes and eyebrows.  And he communicates his love for his wife, constantly.  It was nothing short of astonishing to watch the way Bianca and Darren interacted.  He looks at her like there’s no one else in the room or the world.  She anticipates his physical needs and his mental and emotional ones as well.  Over four days with them, I never heard her complain about any of what she endures, the only time I heard her even question was if anything wasn’t quite right for Darren or when she wanted to make sure multiple times if my room was alright! 

To be in a love like Bianca and Darren’s is what life is all about.

I was privileged to witness it.

Through the Green Beret Foundation and the 98’ Fund (Darren’s fellow West Point Graduates), they paid for the trip and for a professional photographer to snap the couple on the beach.  Bianca and her friend who is a nursing assistant, Monique, were so busy taking care of Darren, Bianca barely had time to get ready.  I ran to CVS and bought her a nail kit, and while she filed her nails I offered to dry her hair for her.  Monique had positioned Darren to be able to watch Bianca get ready, and when I left the bathroom to get something from the other room I realized Darren could only see one particular part of his wife as she was leaning into the mirror.  I joked to Darren, you must be a butt man, and his eyes lit up and he laughed. (Full disclosure, those weren’t the exact words I used).  It was the best sound in the world to hear his quiet muffled laugh at something I said.

I knew I could be helpful with the physical tasks like driving, getting milk for coffee, or pushing his beach wheelchair through the sand, but what I didn’t anticipate was the contentment I experienced from being able to support Bianca.  With drying her hair, picking up Wake and Bake donuts we talked about on the way down, or just laughing until we cried about ridiculous military life topics while out to dinner with her, Darren, Monique, and her friend Karin, I felt useful. 

I didn’t tell Bianca or anyone during the weekend about my Daren.  The weekend was about supporting her and her love’s weekend at the beach.  And I honestly hesitated for weeks over writing this post about it, but I ultimately think it’s important for all Americans to not just thank veterans and their families but truly witness and absorb the weight of what has been asked of our military families and what they have endured.  I hope it serves as a call to action to literally call a veteran or military spouse you know who you have not checked in with for a while to see how they are doing.

When I found out the West Point graduate, Army Officer, named 1 LT Daren Hidalgo that I had become close with during my time in Afghanistan was killed in action by an IED, I relied on my support network.  The ones that immediately come to mind even nearly 11 years later are my roommates/coworkers/desert family all immediately rising from bed at 0300 to cry with me in the bathroom and the next morning one of them climbing into my bed and just holding me without saying a word.  A professor of mine sent me a card where she wrote about the amount of grief I felt showed the amount of love I felt.  The kids I nannied sent me a pic of them hugging as a virtual hug to me.  My friends from home sent countless emails to keep in touch.  My sister ran a marathon with me in his memory.

Support can be scary to give.  We don’t to say the wrong thing. (And there are some definite phrases you should steer clear of…anything involving this is part of a "plan" is a nonstarter in my book).  We don’t want our offer to be more of an inconvenience for them than a help.  And we don’t want to put the burden on the person we’re trying to support to “just let us know if they need anything.”  I read an article recently where a woman sent her friend who was going through a tough time a multiple choice list of pick one or all of them with how you would like me to support you.  Brilliant!  

We are often unsure of what to do to support.

But we should try. 

Being there for someone can be the greatest gift you can give them.

In honor of Darren and Bianca and their love, please reach out to someone today who you know might be having a tough time of it and be there for them.