The first time her husband was deployed on a mission, Roxanne Mill was 20 and pregnant, living in a new city where she knew no one, in an apartment with no furniture.
"That was the hardest, most depressing time of my life," says Mill, who, six years ago, left her home in Long Island, N.Y., to be with her now-husband, Leading Seaman Justin Mill, who is a hull technician at CFB Esquimalt.
"I spent every day crying and wondering what I was doing here."
People warned her that "you knew what you were getting into when you married a navy boy," but she and other military families say nothing can prepare you for the ups and downs of military life -- the loneliness and longing, the excitement and pride.
When asked how many deployments her husband has been on since then, Mill replies: "Enough not to remember."
Since that first mission, Mill says she's learned not to wait by the phone or computer for news.
"I'll be cooped up in the house afraid I'll miss a phone call," she says.
Sometimes she hears from him every day. Sometimes, days go by without contact.
"Those are the hardest," she says, her face clouding over. "He's my husband who I love and he's out on this boat and I haven't heard from him in a few days. It's impossible not to worry."
Now 25, Mill is a stay-at-home mom with an energetic four-year-old named Trent, who has eyes as big and brown as his father's. The family lives in a three-bedroom, two-storey townhouse in Work Point, a neighbourhood that is steps from the waterfront, biking distance from the dockyard and full of other military families like them.
Of course, it took time for her to get accustomed, but Mill credits the Military Family Resource Centre for helping her adjust. Located just outside the gates of HMC Dockyard, the centre offers military families a host of services, such as drop-in or full-time day care, counselling, crisis management and social functions.
At the centre, Mill met other wives and mothers also feeling a partner's absence. She now volunteers at the centre, helping other families going through the same issues she did.
Marianne Ostopovich, the centre's prevention support and intervention co-ordinator, has counselled couples having relationship problems, parents trying to adapt to the single-parent lifestyle and families trying to adopt the semblance of a routine amid an unpredictable schedule.
"Military families become very flexible and adaptable and they're very resilient," says Ostopovich, whose husband was in the navy for 25 years.
"It's not being upset by not having a routine ... or sudden changes. That's not to say it makes it any easier."
Even now, Mill says she's still sad that her husband will miss their fifth wedding anniversary because of a four-month deployment with HMCS Algonquin that starts this month.
"It's something you've got to get used to, him missing Mother's Day and Father's Day, birthdays and Valentine's Day," she says.
Their toddler Trent has a hard time with his father's frequent absences, Mill says. "He gets very sad that Daddy's not around. He gets very angry."
Ostopovich says behavioural problems in young children are common when a parent is away on a mission, while isolation is the biggest challenge for military spouses.
Living in base housing can help families looking to connect with others facing the same challenges.
A prime example is Pam Clark, who has spent most of her life living in Belmont Park, a 400-home community on base property in Colwood.
Her father was in the navy and although the family moved around, they lived primarily in Belmont Park. She raised her own children a few streets away.
"It's a good place to bring up kids because it's out of the city," says Clark, 50, sitting in her modest blue duplex, built in the 1950s.
She remembers sharing lobster boils, water fights, birthday parties and games of tag with other military families while raising her three sons, who are now in their 20s.
"It was awesome," she says, smiling.
She says the military moms in the neighbourhood would often band together when their husbands were at sea. "We looked out for each other's kids. I'd make cookies for the neighbours across the street. We'd put our kids to bed and sit on the front doorsteps in our PJs with a cup of coffee. A lot of the husbands were away so it's better than just sitting in your house," she says.
The day she spoke to the Times Colonist, her husband of 27 years, 50-year-old Dana Clark, was en route to Afghanistan for a nine-month deployment.
"I'm all right with it. I don't worry about him," she says with an air of confident optimism. It's not that she doesn't care. But she's learned to live without being in a constant state of worry.
At the resource centre's monthly coffee dates, Clark meets many young wives and tries to impart her calm attitude.
"I don't watch the news. Some wives will sit there with their face glued to the TV and I say that's not healthy. There's no point in getting to a point where you can't cope," she says.
Mill says she's reached a stage where what was once frustration over the unpredictable lifestyle has morphed into a strong sense of pride.
"I've always been really proud of Justin for what he does for a living. Only over the past few years have I been proud of ourselves as a military family. We've definitely learned how to make it what it is now."
