Living Happily Ever After
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The Key To Everything

Date: February 17, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The key to everything is patience. You get the chicken by hatching the egg, not by smashing it.” (Arnold H. Glasow)

When I was 3-4 years old I learned an additional lesson for the unexpected life. It came from another feathered friend, a duck.

At the time, my family lived in Arizona on a golf course. One of my favorite activities was to visit the ponds on the golf course and feed bread to the ducks. I loved the ducks! In fact, I loved them so much I wanted one of my own. Every time we fed the ducks, I wanted to take an egg home with me.

My mom always kept me carefully away from the nests, but one day our cousins from Utah were in town visiting, and my cousin Athena and I decided that together, we were going to get a duck! We rode my bike to the pond, stealthily crept to a nest when the mother duck was swimming, grabbed an egg and pedaled home as fast as my little legs could pump! The whole way home I felt like we’d robbed a bank.

And then there was the threat of dogs. We were sure if a dog caught a whiff of the egg in our possession, the dog would be after us too! Home we raced, hearts pounding, legs pumping, dodging dogs and other dangers in the quest for a duckling. Finally, we arrived back home and I snuck a table knife from the kitchen to help us crack the egg open.

Imagine our disappointment when we cracked the egg and out came…absolutely nothing.

I was stunned! I remember wondering how an egg that was supposed to contain a baby duck actually contained nothing different than the eggs my mom scrambled for breakfast.

It was one of my earliest lessons in life. And patience. It showed me, for the first time, that as much as you’d like to, you can’t rush life or its challenges OR its blessings. How many times I have impatiently wished I could fast forward through the hard stuff I never expected to face or planned on being a part of my life, unexpected or otherwise.

Then I remember my first failed effort to attempt to do that and realize, again, that  in life you can’t always go over or under or around it. You can only go through it. And you can’t get birds by smashing eggs. You have to be patient. You have to wait for things to hatch. And you have to have faith.

“Faith is putting all your eggs in God’s basket, then counting your blessings before they hatch.” (Ramona C. Carroll)

Hatch…Or Go Bad

Date: February 16, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I don’t, for the record, have a Tweety Bird fetish.” (Brian Lamb)

But I have enjoyed some special birds.

Once, when I lived in my Colorado neighborhood, an owl took up residence on our front porch. He stayed with us for about 3 weeks and kept a close eye on us–rotating his head all the way around to look at a us, never missing a thing! It was very unexpected. And very typical of life–unexpected.

But the creatures I had the most dealings with for the 16 years I lived in my home were two particular birds: a sparrow and a robin.

The sparrow took up residence every year in the wreath that hung on my front door. Kind homeowner that I was, every fall when she flew away for the winter, I removed the nest and cleaned the bird mess off my front door and secretly hoped she wouldn’t return. But every year she did. When she arrived, she immediately set to work laboring long and hard to build a little nest in the wreath. Then she’d lay her little eggs there. And then she had to endure trying to protect her eggs as our front door opened and closed, and people came and went, throughout the day every day. I’m sure she never expected to live amid such turmoil!

But I have to give her credit for not only enduring her circumstances, but for never giving up; for returning each year, year after year, to do the same thing. It inspired me that she always made it–she built her nest, raised her babies, and survived the winter season to return and do it again.

The unexpected life requires emulation of the sparrow. You don’t expect what you’re handed, you never plan to live amid turmoil, you can’t control much of what you experience, but you can endure. That’s what the sparrow did. And she taught me you can do it year after year, for however long it takes, until you triumph over your challenges.

The robin took up her real estate in the pear tree outside my dining room window. I could stand in my dining room and look out the window and down into her nest. I got to enjoy a bird’s eye view without ever disturbing my bird-friend! She slaved to build her nest; she laid her eggs in it–beautiful, tiny blue eggs; and then she sat on them through rain and shine, sleet and heat and snow. Many times, I watched her huddled in her nest, her wings wrapped around her for protection against the heavy, wet, thick, Colorado spring snow that pounded her little nest relentlessly. But she, too, never gave up despite the heavy burdens that landed on her. And she still managed to not only hatch her eggs and raise her baby birds, but she sang while she did it. Year after year.

When my unexpected life began, I remember feeling a lot like that robin: burdened, huddled, trying to survive the temporary misery amid heavy snow.

The unexpected life requires emulation of the robin, too. Endure, and by virtue of never giving up, eventually conquer the things that are heaped upon you. Hang in there, eventually spring will come. Your burdens will lift (or you’ll have become strengthened and able to bear them) if you don’t give up. And for goodness sake, sing while you do it! There’s a reason Snow White whistled while she worked!

It has been two years since my last interactions with the robin and the sparrow. And now I realize something else, probably the most important thing of all. Thank goodness for the unexpected life, despite its turmoil, trauma, challenges and burdens. Because it forces us out of our shells and out of our nest, we have to fly or fail; hatch or go bad.

Growth is always a choice. In most cases, so is triumph. I love those little birds and their eggs that reminded me of that.

“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird; it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are all like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.” (C.S. Lewis)

Thank goodness for the unexpected life that keeps things fresh, and that helps us hatch and grow beyond being just ordinary, decent eggs.

Natural Born Espionage Agents

Date: February 15, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“All women are natural born espionage agents.” (Eddy Cantor)

I wish that were true. If I were a natural born espionage agent, I’d like to think I might have at least seen my unexpected life coming! But I didn’t. Because I’m not.

And I also have to say I think becoming single again in my 40s, following 20 years of being happily married, might have been a little less confusing if I’d possessed a bit more cunning and stealth. I guess I’m just not shady enough, and never was very good at (or interested in) playing games.

Or, maybe it’s just me, and a deficiency I possess, because my 5th grader walked in the door last week and announced, “Mom, NEVER reveal your secrets to a woman!”

Barely 11 years old, and he’s already being schooled in the ways of spies, I mean, girls.

I knew exactly what was going on. “Uh-oh, what happened?” I asked. “Did you make the mistake of telling a girl which girls you like and now you have a…situation?”

He confirmed his dilemma. And although I didn’t want to lecture him, I let him know secrets and girls can be a problem. I told him it was wise to never reveal his crushes–especially to the competition! He said, “But Mom, she asked! She really needed to know.”

Yes, I bet she did. “Of course I can keep secrets. It’s the people I tell them to that can’t keep them.” (Anthony Haden-Guest) Especially with Valentine’s Day coming. It had an interesting result, too.

The secret that wasn’t a secret anymore resulted in my son returning home from school yesterday with several cans of a variety of soda pop–gifts from different girls for the holiday. He was absolutely smitten with each flavor of soda pop bequeathed to him by female admirers!

“I have always been an admirer. I regard the gift of admiration as indispensable if one is to amount to something; I don’t know where I would be without it.” (Francois de la Rochefoucauld)

Holiday

Date: February 14, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Valentine’s Day is not a holiday. Rosh Hashanah, that’s a holiday. Memorial Day, yes a holiday…You know who invented Valentine’s Day? Hershey’s and Hallmark.” (Peter Gallagher, The O.C.)

My oldest walked in to the kitchen, saw I was writing a blog post and asked what I was writing about. I replied, “I think, Valentine’s Day.” To which he responded, “YUCK. I can’t think of a more pointless ‘holiday’ than that!” and he left the room. I had to wonder, how did such a romantic mother raise such a realistic teenage son? LOL. Although I don’t know if #5 would think the mother is so romantic. Case in point: a conversation we had just last week.

We were driving down the road when he asked, “So, are the kids set for Monday night?”

I panicked, trying to recall what was scheduled for Monday night. My mind raced as I tried to remember what I had planned, and how I could have neglected to take care of a tiny but extremely important detail called childcare. I must have given #5 the biggest, blank, deer-caught-in-headlights stare prior to verbalizing a very intelligent, “Huh?”

All he could do was shake his head and offer two words, “Valentine’s Day!” Followed by, “I can’t believe you forgot! How unromantic you are! What would Edward and Bella say?”

He was right. How very unromantic of the woman bent on a happy ending to her fairy tale, who endured the revelation of crime, a Ponzi scheme, divorce, publicity, loss, financial devastation, an unexpected return to the workforce, a return to the single life, dating in her 40s, THE BACHELORS  and everything else, who eventually found her very own Mr. Awesome, and then forgot… Valentine’s Day!

I don’t know what Edward and Bella would think, but here’s what I thought: I thought back to last Valentine’s Day. 2010. My first as a divorcee/single mother. I was pretty overwhelmed by my unexpected life back then, so I don’t remember focusing on it much. I think I was just hoping to get through it, sort of forget it, and look forward to brighter days. But instead, that was the day I arrived home from work to find a beautiful flower arrangement waiting for me on my porch–from #5. He took me to dinner and a play that night. That was also the date I was battling bronchitis and a sinus infection (I know, romantic!), the night #5 warned me that when my antibiotics kicked in, he was taking things to a new level.

How much has transpired since last Valentine’s Day, including this realization: I think I forgot to focus on February 14, Valentine’s Day, 2011, because every day with #5 feels a lot like Valentine’s Day to me. That is something I never expected when I walked through the doors at The Old Spaghetti Factory and saw #5 for the first time; when I sat across the table from him on our first date in 2009.

“How can you tell if two adults eating dinner at a restaurant are in love?

  • Just see if the man picks up the check. That’s how you can tell if he’s in love. (John, age 9)
  • Lovers will just be staring at each other and their food will get cold. Other people care more about the food. (Brad, age 8)
  • It’s love if they order one of those desserts that are on fire. They like to order those because it’s just like how their hearts are on fire.” (Christine, age 9)

Smarter Than You

Date: February 13, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Girls have an unfair advantage over men: if they can’t get what they want by being smart, they can get it by being dumb.” (Yul Brynner)

Except where preschoolers are concerned, if you happen to be their mother.

My youngest was chatting with me over dinner when out of the blue he said, (and I promise I didn’t say or do anything “dumb” before he shared his observation),”Mom, my teacher is smarter than you.”

“Really? How can you tell?” I asked.

“My teacher knows ALL her ABCs!” he replied. “And can count to 100 and 80…even a thousand!”

“Wow, that IS smart,” I commented. But try as I might, I could not convince him my intelligence level was anywhere close to that of Miss Wendy’s.

The irony of my debate with my youngest regarding my intelligence is that when I was thrust into my unexpected life, I took a lot of heat from many people who insisted I had to have known a Ponzi scheme was taking place because “I was TOO SMART not to have known!”

You can’t see what is intentionally hidden from you through layers of deception and lies carefully crafted for more than a decade. And sometimes, even the brightest of people, can’t see what isn’t right in front of their eyes. Even Andrea Merriman, with all of the intelligence, genius, brilliance and “smarts” I’ve been accused of possessing!

You win some, you lose some, I guess. As evidenced by my unexpected life…and motherhood.

“I am so smart! I am so smart! S-M-R-T! I mean, S-M-A-R-T!” (Dan Castellaneta)


Someday

Date: February 12, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

I’ve admired a few women in my life.

Every once in awhile, you come across someone who exemplifies everything you admire. You look at her with awe and hope that someday… you can become like her. That someday you’ll be as beautiful on the inside, and out, as she is.

The bummer comes in getting there.

In becoming like her.

In developing the beauty that comes from meeting life and conquering its challenges with grace, dignity and class. (At least, that’s my goal.)

Someday, I want to be a woman like that.

“Class has nothing to do with money. Class never runs scared. It is self-discipline and self-knowledge. It’s the sure footedness that comes with having proved you can meet life.” (Ann Landers)

And if I ever become such a woman, I’m going to have to thank my unexpected life for that, too.

My Own “Hall of Fame”

Date: February 11, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m not proud. I’m willing to go in on my hands and knees if I have to.” ( Luke Appling, asked whether he resented entering the Hall of Fame on the second ballot)

Yep, that’s pretty much how my unexpected life is for me. Not proud, willing to do what must be done. It has provided some memorable, head shaking moments for me; not head shaking in a bad way, more like a “I NEVER expected to do THIS or have this be my life” sort of way!

“Hall of Fame” moments of The Unexpected Life (in no particular order):

1. Not being able to give my children even $1 for new school clothes. Last year, we made due with ALL of the old. (Quite an unexpected change from every previous year’s shopping trips to Nordstrom or Abercrombie! I never imagined not being able to purchase ANY school clothes for my children prior to entering my unexpected life.) But this is the good part: My kids have learned to shop thrift stores first when they need something and have scored some deals—like the time my daughter found a brand new J. Crew blouse with the tags still attached…for $6!

2. Encouraging my middle son to wear shoes with holes. I never imagined I’d do it, or have to do it, but it’s an attempt to make them last longer and to give us extra time to save up money for a new pair. I like to think of them as “stylishly tattered” (like the hole-y jeans everyone wears) and frankly, we’re just thankful he has SHOES! Period. March 18, 2009, we weren’t so sure we’d even have shoes, so we’re thankful for what we’ve got. Besides, someday when he’s grown and a father himself and needs a good story for his children, he’ll be able to tell them how he had to wear shoes with holes in the winter when he was in 5th grade.

3. Driving a used car, in the middle of winter, with a broken window. As mentioned in a previous blog, driving in the freezing winter air, heater blasting, buried under blankets in an attempt to stay warm is definitely a memory I never expected to make! What a sight I must have been! In my 40s, driving a car without a window, in the winter. Welcome to my unexpected life! (Endless thanks to a good neighbor who fixed the broken window for us, and every time I drive I’m so grateful for all of the windows in the car.)

4. Driving my car’s gas tank past empty, well beyond the moment the “empty” light turns on, EVERY time it runs low. I’m just trying to go as long as I can between payments to the pump. (In my old life, my former husband didn’t like me to let the gas gauge get below half-full. But things are very different for the Merrimans now!)

5. Living with a giant pot under my kitchen sink for 4 months, emptying the pot 3-4 times a day (and sometimes cleaning up a flood when my kids ran water in the sink and forgot to check the water level accumulating in the pot underneath) when I got a leak, tried to fix it, probably made it worse, had my Eagle Scout son try to fix it, he couldn’t, and we couldn’t afford a plumber so we lived with a pot under the sink while we tried to save up money for a plumber. However, when you’re short every month, savings never really materializes.  We’ll never forget our friend who flew over from Denver, Colorado, and fixed our leak for us one Saturday. His service to our family will NEVER be forgotten!

6. Handwashing dishes. Our dishwasher broke several months ago, so we hand-washed our dishes for financial reasons–it was just impossible for me to justify going into debt for the purchase of a new dishwasher (even the “cheap” ones are expensive in my world!) when we had plenty of dish soap, dish rags and hands that could do the job just as well for a lot less money. Besides, I didn’t think I could qualify for credit to purchase a new one, anyway! (And I wasn’t up for an additional embarrassing financial situation, I’ve had a few of those already in my unexpected life.)  And then just last week, a new dishwasher was purchased, delivered and installed for me, courtesy of #5. Thanks, Mr. Awesome! (I don’t think any of my children will ever complain again about having to unload a dishwasher! We’re just so thankful to have one and to not have to hand wash dishes anymore.)

6. Not eating out but making a memorable attempt at breaking that status at Red Robin. I decided to splurge on a family meal “out” during the holidays because we hadn’t all gone out to eat together since our unexpected life began almost two years ago. I calculated that we could afford Red Robin if we ordered 3 of their $5 burgers and split them. We drove to Red Robin, sat down, picked up our menus, and I couldn’t find those $5 burgers anywhere on the menu. The waitress informed me they’d been removed from the menu one week earlier and weren’t available anymore, “But our burgers are only $8 each, that’s still a good deal and they’re really delicious!” There was only one thing I could say to that:  ”NOT for a single mother with 4 kids. Thanks, anyway.” And we got up and left! We had to. There’s a big difference between $15 and $24 in my unexpected life. As we were walking out without ordering or eating anything, my youngest started throwing a temper tantrum and had to be carried out as he screamed. I’m sure we appeared to be the trashiest customers to grace Red Robin that day. I NEVER imagined I’d choose to exit a restaurant because I was unwilling to go into debt for a burger, but that’s what I did. (I’m laughing about it now, I hope Red Robin can, someday, too!)

7. Doing anything for free groceries. (I never imagined the lengths I’d go to to save money in my unexpected life.) My daughter had her wisdom teeth removed, three prescriptions were needed, I took them to Rite Aid to be filled, drove away and then found a coupon for Smith’s grocery store’s pharmacy that offered $25 in free groceries for each new prescription filled, good for up to 3 prescriptions. That was $75 of free groceries–and all it cost was the humiliation of returning to the original pharmacy and asking for my prescriptions back! I hurried back to Rite Aid and asked for the written prescriptions back before they were filled. At some point in my life I might have been embarrassed to do something like that, but after living through REALLY humiliating experiences (like being married to a man who perpetrated a Ponzi scheme without my knowledge, having the whole thing unfold in national media, having my divorce reported in the media, having my neighbors offer commentary on my life and living situation to the media, and a few other things) I’m not easily embarrassed anymore.  And the next time when we needed food, and my entire purchase at Smith’s was free, I wasn’t embarrassed at all, I was grateful! Grateful I hadn’t been too proud to save some money.

8. Attempting to save money and make the old tire on my car last longer before I bought a new one, and ending up, instead, with a flat tire in the desert in July and had to pay a tow truck $100 to help us when we couldn’t get the flat tire off to put the spare tire on! Yes, that one didn’t turn out QUITE like I expected it to. Worst of all, it didn’t save me any money! Lesson learned. ”Fame and riches are fleeting. Stupidity is eternal.” (Don Williams, Jr.)

10. Returning to work full-time and putting one of my children in daycare. I know many people do it, and I’m used to it now–it’s our life–but it was a momentous (not in a good way) experience for me.

11. Taking my children to two new movies, in an actual theater, this past holiday season. (Our thanks and gratitude to a very generous Denver man who sent us a gift card to Cinemark! We LOVED it!) It was the first time we’d been able to go to a current movie, as a family, in our unexpected life.

12. Returning my violin to its original owner–the same week my former possessions went to new ones.

13. Taking my kids out to eat at a restaurant for only the 3rd time in almost two years, my treat, thanks to the violin money. And although I faced quit an inner debate about doing something “frivolous” like that when there are talents to be developed, when my 17-year-old furnace broke the very next week and all of the violin money had to go to paying for a replacement furnace, I was glad we’d done something fun, like dinner! Note to self: need new plan for talent development. (Still awaiting inspiration on that one!)

There you have it. The Unexpected Life “Hall of Fame.

Interestingly, ”Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember.” (Seneca)

I mean that.

I Didn’t Sell My Soul

Date: February 10, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’d have a whole lot more money if I lied, but I wouldn’t enjoy spending it.” (Martina Navratilova)

I know what you mean, Martina. But not only would I not have enjoyed spending it, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself either.

“One of my proudest moments is I didn’t sell my soul for the sake of popularity.” (George W. Bush) Or things. Or money.

I’ll always be glad it’s the way I’ve chosen to live. But it does mean shortage of money is a reality in my unexpected life. Not just that things are tight, but that like many people, I assume, especially single mothers or people in the throes of an unexpected life and in an economic downturn, I’m short. Every month. Some might say “My problem lies in reconciling my gross habits with my net income” (Errol Flynn) but in my case, it’s more a result of starting over in my 40s (not just at zero, but in the hole thanks to the financial morass created by my former spouse), with four children and no alimony or child support, on the heels of complete and total financial devastation!

So I’m always looking to economize. This quest has led to a few special memories, experiences I’ve listed in the Unexpected Life “Hall of Fame” of Andrea Merriman. Things I NEVER imagined I’d do, or that would be the reality of my life.

There’s quite a bit  I never expected.

Sold!

Date: February 9, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“This sentimental comedy…is said to have had a great success in its own country. So do fringed lamp shades.” (Richard Eder)

I determined not be sentimental about the sale of my violin. I didn’t really even let myself think about it. I just loaded my violin in the car and headed to Salt Lake City. The problem was that I had time to think as I drove to Mr. Prier’s store. And although I didn’t do it on purpose, my mind was flooded with memories of my parents, everything they had taught me and had done for me, competitions and concerts I had played with my violin, solos I’d had and even some funny memories–like how in the early stages of learning the violin, our family cat would attack me when I practiced.

As I drove, I started feeling pretty sentimental about the whole thing. Every few miles, I’d wonder if I should turn around and head home with my violin. But I kept driving. Too soon, I arrived at Peter Paul Prier. I parked my car and headed in.

The little shop stands exactly as it must have in the 1980s (and probably, earlier) when my parents walked through those same doors. Instead of a bell jingling your arrival as stores used to in the “olden days” of my childhood, Peter Paul Prier has a mechanism that strums the strings of a violin hung over the door when you open it. The walls have wood paneling. Art, depicting violins and European scenes, hangs on the walls. An adjoining room is lined with shelves of beautiful violins for sale.

Mr. Prier was on the phone, so I had time to look around the little store and soak up its atmosphere, which wasn’t good for me. It made me want to cry. I walked to the counter and saw the same receipt I had from my purchase–he still uses the exact same graphic and receipt paper! (I loved that.) I had plenty of time to sit and think about my parents being in the very same store, making a purchase–and there I was returning it for money almost 30 years later. I’m sure my parents had no idea how much their purchase would help me at a later date just as I’d never imagined the day would come that I’d return their gift.

The longer I sat there, the harder it got. I hoped Mr. Prier would soon appear so I could sell him my violin and get out of there before I started to cry. Finally, he came. He walked out, eyes twinkling, a slight German accent to his English and asked how he could help me. I showed him my violin and told him I’d like to sell it. He inspected it, told me a little bit about it, showed me special things about my violin and I gave him the original receipt. He asked why I wanted to sell it.

I didn’t expect him to ask me that. I didn’t have a smooth answer prepared so I told him the truth: I was divorced, a single mother of four children, and I needed the money. He looked at me with surprise, and said something like, “What? A nice woman like you? That is too bad.” For some reason, I explained that I am a nice woman; my divorce was the result of crimes committed by the man I was married to, that he is incarcerated, that I lost everything of value in a government seizure but I’d been allowed to keep my violin because my parents had purchased it in 1982, long before my marriage or my former spouse’s crimes. (I don’t know why I did that. I know better than to share my story!)

He nodded his head, told me what he would give me for my violin, I agreed to the amount, and he went to his office to write the check. While he was gone, I struggled to reconcile myself to what I was doing. Just when I thought I had moved on and healed from everything, apparently there was another undiscovered chapter to close. I was affected by it. I tried not to be. I fought back the tears. I just hoped I could get out of there before they began to roll.

Mr. Prier returned, came from behind the counter, gave me the check out and promised me it would clear when I cashed it. I held the check, but he didn’t let go right away. He offered some very kind words to me, along with the money, and that was when I did start to cry. So there I stood like a total idiot, crying, as Peter Paul Prier said I was a nice woman, he hoped his check helped me, he wished the best for me and my children, that things would get better with time–he knew there were good things in store for me. (I tell you, only in Utah are people like this! It’s amazing to me that I’ve had more than one encounter with businessmen who offer encouragement and kind words in the course of their business transactions!) He was such a handsome, kind, soft-spoken, older gentleman with sparkling eyes I couldn’t help but believe him. His kindness, compassion, empathy and my hope that he was right touched me and made me cry…all the way to my car.

And then the weirdest thing happened. As I got to my car, there sat a giant white dog that looked eerily similar to our dog Joe, our Yellow Lab who passed away last summer, barking and wagging his tail. Joe had such a deep, distinctive “Woof,” I could not believe a dog that looked, but especially sounded so much like Joe, was standing in a parking lot in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City, UT, at a time I was struggling and needed some cheering! Although for an instant it added to the brief wallowing I couldn’t help but let myself indulge in for a few moments, and made me miss my dog on top of missing my violin, my parents, my past and for a moment, every other thing I had lost, it actually cheered me up– the strangeness of things in my unexpected life!

“Expect the best. Prepare for the worst. Capitalize on what comes.”  (Zig Ziglar)

Thanks to my unexpected life, I’m doing that.

What Would My Parents Think?

Date: February 8, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

I had first called Mr. Prier last summer, but he was out of the country for awhile. Then school started, the holidays came and went, and finally in January 2011, he and I were both available to meet.

His assistant asked if I had a record of the purchase or knew exactly how much my parents had paid for the violin. Unfortunately, I had no documentation. I’d never even seen any. I asked if they maintained records. She told me they did, but maybe not back “that far” (almost 30 years ago.) She told me not to worry, that it made things a little quicker if I had paperwork, but that they could figure things out without it.

As the day of our meeting approached, I occasionally wondered how my parents would feel about what I was going to do. Then I’d put that thought out of my mind. They were dead, it probably didn’t matter to them. I just hoped they would know of my continued appreciation for all they did for me, including my gratitude that they had even bought me a really good violin to help me in my violin studies but that was also going to be a help to me in my unexpected life.

Two days before my meeting with Peter Paul Prier, I noticed a box under my bed. For some reason, I’d never noticed that box before. I didn’t know what was in it so I pulled it out, opened it, and my eyes were drawn to a folded piece of paper on top of the box’s miscellaneous contents. I opened the paper and about fell over when I saw what it was.

On the upper corner was a black, line drawing of a violin maker bearing an eery resemblance to Geppetto, the toy maker from “Pinocchio.” That folded piece of paper was the original receipt of my parents’ purchase of my violin in 1982! Don’t ask me how it came to be in my possession. I never even knew it existed, much less that it was in my possession–especially after my dad had died, my mom had moved four times after that, I’d moved three times and then lived through a government seizure and a very chaotic move to Utah, and I’d even had a house flood! But with that little miracle, I decided to take it as a sign my parents would understand my decision to part with my violin.

“When suffering comes, we yearn for some sign from God, forgetting we have just had one.” (Mignon McLaughlin)