Living Happily Ever After
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Life’s A Beach

Date: November 23, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman
“Among the many thousands of things that I have never been able to understand, one in particular stands out. That is the question of who was the first person who stood by a pile of sand and said, ‘You know, I bet if we took some of this and mixed it with a little potash and heated it, we could make a material that would be solid and yet transparent. We could call it glass.’ Call me obtuse, but you could stand me on a beach till the end of time and never would it occur to me to try to make it into windows.” (Bill Bryson) 

It’s amazing what never occurs to us. For example. I grew up enjoying the surf of Hawaii, yet it never occurred to me to find any meaning in it. Until I thought about blue bubblefish.

Everything in Hawaii makes it paradise…except blue bubblefish.

Blue bubblefish are a jelly fish you occasionally find in the surf: a transparent blue bubble head, attached to a long tail that resembles skinny seaweed. (Except that seaweed doesn’t hurt when it touches you!) Blue bubblefish STING. And over the course of my life, I’ve been stung a few times.

The first time I got stung by a blue bubblefish, it hurt! I couldn’t recall ever feeling anything like it. I went in the house, applied meat tenderizer to the sting (it was supposed to help, but I don’t remember that it did) and stayed inside the rest of the afternoon. The second time I was stung, I went inside for a little while, but returned to the beach later that day. The third time I got stung, I flipped the bubblefish onto the beach and popped it, so it wouldn’t hurt me or anyone else again. The final time I got stung, I uncurled the bubble fish tail from around my arm, threw the fish as far away from me as I could–but kept swimming. It turns out, each time I got stung, I was a little bit stronger and able to deal with it.

As I battled the occasional bubblefish in the summertime in Hawaii, I didn’t think much beyond the experience that interrupted my boogie boarding. But now I see that life is kind of like that.

Life is a beach. The unexpected things that come into our lives are blue bubblefish. They “interrupt” our life experience, they hurt, they aren’t “fun.” In fact, sometimes the pain they cause can be downright miserable. However, the hard and painful experiences can make us stronger each time we overcome them until one day, we keep swimming despite the pain. Eventually, we don’t notice them any more.

Our challenge is to keep ourselves floating, or at least on the beach, until that time. We can’t quit. We can’t go into the house, nurse our wound and abandon boogie boarding for the rest of the day or our life.

We have to remember that, “Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.” (Lance Armstrong)

Winter Eventually Becomes Summer…If You Just Don’t Quit

Date: November 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

At times in my life I’ve lived through experiences that seemed to be “just like the movies,” for good and for bad.

Like the day Federal Agents drove up to my Colorado home for the first time, in their caravan of dark SUVs with dark tinted windows, and every agent got out of the vehicle they were riding in wearing dark sunglasses and navy blue jackets with “U.S. Marshalls” embroidered on the back. I remember standing at the front window of my home, watching their arrival scene that appeared to be straight out of Hollywood, wondering how it could possibly be my experience. It was completely surreal, yet unfortunately, real; real enough I was terrified.

But there was nothing I could do. I had to be there, I had nowhere else to go, so I simply had to endure it.

In reality, every agent was very nice and respectful. Although my fear never left me (it’s hard not to feel fearful when a bunch of government agents are in your home because you, and everyone else, have discovered the man you’ve been married to for almost 20 years has secretly been committing a crime to the tune of 14 years and 20 million dollars), I got through it.

Sometimes, that’s all you can do.

Get through it despite the fear and uncertainty. Face what you dread. And although it doesn’t make you feel particularly courageous when you’re afraid, I’ve learned that facing your fear and not quitting in its face, is courage in itself.

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” (Nelson Mandela)

Some days, getting through the day without quitting means you’ve conquered fear. It’s courageous just to carry on. Even if things don’t turn out the way you hoped. To never quit is brave. To press forward is triumphant. And eventually, the fear goes away. Or you learn that you can survive experiences that are epically fear-inducing and come out just fine on the other side of them, with time.

I’m so glad I never quit, despite the many moments I wished I could have!

Because in those cold, dark moments of dread, indescribable fear, utter humiliation and hardship you’re tempted to think will never end, they do. Life goes on after them. And you learn things about yourself you never knew.

“In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” (Albert Camus)

Summer has always been my favorite season.

Raise Your Hand If You’ve Ever Taken Your Mother To A Single’s Dance

Date: November 19, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect.” (Oscar Wilde)

I guess I’m becoming more modern; I’m learning to expect the unexpected. And certainly parts of  IT, a single’s dance with a mom, were unexpected. After all, if you’d asked me even one year ago what the odds would be of me going to a singles dance, and with a MOTHER, I would have laughed in your face and guessed a billion to one! But then again, I would have laughed and denied that any part of my entire unexpected life would have been mine 20 months ago.

Imagine this (my) scenario: married 20 years, becoming unexpectedly single, moving to a new state to begin a new life, finding your biological mother via Facebook (THAT is a “friend” request you never forget!), discovering you live 20 minutes from each other, and that she is single, as well, after being married 35 years? And you both like to dance…

She is a beautiful, “game for anything” sort of gal with no shortage of men who want to spend time with her. In fact, handsome fifty-year-olds introduce themselves to her and ask her out in the grocery store. (We date men approximately the same age! How’s that for funny?) But as she lives alone in the mountains she needed a purely social experience, with no possibility of falling in love, an opportunity to simply dance, so the singles dance was a no brainer. After all, “Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we should dance.”

So we did.

One part of the night was expected. We walked though the door to the dance and…she couldn’t breathe. She was shocked to be there; that a single’s dance was now her life. She said, “Andrea, what am I doing here? What was I thinking? I can’t believe this is me and my life.” (Where have we heard that before? She said almost the exact words I uttered when I went to my first singles dance a little over one year ago!) So I wasn’t surprised at her reaction. In fact, I expected it.

As she is a stunningly attractive and energetic woman who looks and acts much younger than her actual age, I expected the men at the dance to notice her, and they didn’t let me down! After the first one got his courage up to ask her to dance, it was a domino effect and actually quite comical to see three men, at the exact same time, make a beeline for her. It happened several times throughout the night.

Once they got her on the dance floor, they didn’t want to let her go. They’d dance with her for as long as they possibly could until someone cut in (I didn’t know men still did that these days!) or I got her away to meet someone new. To paraphrase an old song (that they probably played at the singles dance along with many other “oldies”), “Oh, what a night!”

But here is what I admired most about her and that night.

You meet a lot of interesting people at dances like that. As Bachelor #1 famously said, “There are a lot of broken hearts” at a singles dance. And sometimes, superficially, it’s evident why. Not every man that asks you to dance, and sometimes on some nights at some dances not ANY man who asks you to dance is your “dream man.” But you’d never have known it from watching her that night.

She was clearly the most beautiful woman at the dance, yet she was also the most gracious to every single man she met. Every single dance partner got the same big smile, friendly effort and fun dance partner, regardless of their age, race, attractiveness or dancing ability. No wonder the men loved her!

I couldn’t help but notice another attractive woman there that night as she danced. At one point, the woman was with a man that clearly didn’t appeal to her, she saw several others of a similar type heading her way as well, and she turned over her shoulder and called to her friends, “Does anyone want to take my place? I’m getting tired!” No one took her up on her offer. She didn’t appear to be interested in dancing or in her dance partners: she didn’t look at the men she danced with, she didn’t speak to them (didn’t even greet them) and it appeared she couldn’t wait to be free of them.

It was a great lesson for me. My parents taught me to never say no to a boy who asked me to dance, and to be kind to them while I danced with them. I hope I always lived up to their expectations (I know I did except for maybe one time, in the 80s, which I still feel a little bad about.) Watching my birth mom dance with anyone and everyone that night reminded me, again, of the importance of being gracious to everyone you meet.

It reminded me of a very important principle of life, even the unexpected one. My parents raised me to know that  life isn’t all about me, it’s about other people, too. Having charity toward others, loving and serving others, and being a light in the world. And what a gift you give to others, to the world, if everyone you meet walks away from their experience with you better than they were before they met you–uplifted, inspired, happy, feeling better about themselves or their life for having rubbed shoulders, or danced, with you.

“Past the seeker as he prayed came the crippled and the beggar and the beaten.  And seeing them… he cried, ‘Great God, how is it that a loving creator can see such things and yet do nothing about them?’  God said, ‘I did do something.  I made you.’” (Author Unknown)

Slumber Party Adoption-Style

Date: November 18, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Brandon Walsh: “You’re having a slumber party? I thought you gave those up in junior high.”
Brenda Walsh: “It is not a slumber party. It’s an evening of female bonding, right Mom?”

What do you do when you meet your birth mother at the ripe old age of 42? You get to know one another. And if your mother is a woman who is nice, friendly, loving, and social…you have the occasional slumber party. At least, that’s what we do.

We met in early 2010. By summertime, it was time to take things to a new level. She called me one day and invited me to stay with her for a weekend. So I made the trip to her home, carried my suitcase into her bedroom and made myself at home. We went to dinner. We sat in her hot tub, talking about anything and everything, until the wee hours. And then we fell asleep in her king-size bed. We fell asleep talking and woke up talking some more! She took me out in her boat for a perfect morning on the lake before I went home to my family.

A few months have passed since our first slumber party. It was time for another sleepover. This time, she came to my house. She arrived, with pizzas for my children, along with homemade, frosted, sugar cookies she had decorated. I’d never even told her how much I love them, so it’s interesting that her cookie specialty also just happens to be my favorite! (I almost missed a plane, once, for frosted sugar cookies–but that is a story for another day, although it sure makes me wonder if some of our “loves” are in our genes!)

We went shopping. We discovered we love the same stores: Nordstrom and J. Crew. While looking around, we both fell in love with the same cardigan, in the same color, so she bought them for us. Afterward, we went to dinner at P.F. Changs, and both of us ordered the exact same thing for our meal. But you’ll never guess where the evening’s entertainment culminated.

Think about it. What would two single ladies do? Where would they go…if they loved to dance?

I can see the eye rolling now. Yep, you guessed it! After all I’ve written about them, you’re probably wondering how it could possibly be. But it’s true.

I took her to a single’s dance!

Raise your hand if you’ve ever taken your mom to a single’s dance.

“Those who dance are thought mad by those who hear not the music.” (Unknown)

Another unexpected adventure in what has become a very unexpected life.

Stay tuned.

Dazzling

Date: November 17, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“A man’s character may be learned from the adjectives which he habitually uses in conversation.” (Mark Twain)

There’s nothing that reveals character like the unexpected life. And if we’re judging things by the adjectives I’ve learned to use, I’d say the unexpected life revealed some flaws I hadn’t known were there.

It has always been a joke in my family that I can’t cuss.

It’s not that I haven’t known the proper words to use. My amazing Nana had the MOST colorful way of expressing herself for most of my life. And both of my parents occasionally “slipped” when addressing frustrations (usually in relation to my brothers! haha) and taught them to me unintentionally. It’s mostly that I just was never comfortable using those expressions. And it was so out of character for me to express myself that way, it never worked when I tried. I simply wasn’t good at it.

Early in my first marriage, I cussed at my former husband–to make a point, of course. He stopped as soon as I said the word, and laughed! He shook his head, told me not to do that any more, that it just wasn’t me and it didn’t work for me. He laughed about it the rest of our marriage.

Then 2005 arrived. It was a challenging year. My oldest was in 7th grade and experimenting with a new appearance, growing his hair longer and dressing like a skater–in the style of Elmo, I mean Emo (sorry to all of the Emo people out there!) and acting a little careless to match his hairstyle. At the same time, my last child was born. I experienced some complications and spent a couple of months in and out of the hospital and the year following his birth continuing to heal and recover. On top of that, my baby had health/sensory challenges of his own and cried almost constantly the first two years of his life. And my mom died. (All of the above took place as my oldest attempted to “find” himself at 12 1/2 years old.)

One day, I lost it and cussed at my oldest son. I remember where I was standing when I did it–his bedroom. He stopped as soon as I said the word, and laughed! He shook his head and told me I shouldn’t attempt that any more, that I was terrible at cussing, and has teased me about it ever since.

Enter the unexpected life. Although I was almost perfectly kind and polite to the former husband who became a stranger in one fateful moment March 18, 2009, I remember an occasion in which I used an inappropriate adjective several times when addressing some issues I had with him and what he had done. (In my defense, it was absolutely mild and merciful compared to what I was thinking and feeling at the time!) And then one morning not too long ago, things that had been building inside me for awhile came to a head and I used an inappropriate adjective in speaking to my oldest again. Sadly, no one laughed. Because the word worked.

I felt bad about that all day long. Is that what my unexpected life had come to and created in me–an ability to demonstrate my “poverty of thought?” (That’s how I’d viewed cussing up until that time.) I even called a friend and confessed my language challenge to her. She knew just what to say. She good-naturedly told me not to worry about it; that I had used a word that is a location, so it didn’t count as cussing! THAT sure gave me a good laugh on a day that I needed one.

So although the unexpected life I hope has revealed positive attributes (my ability to endure, forgive, remain honest, work hard, look at the bright side and choose happiness despite it all) it has revealed a character flaw, or two, as well. Darn it.

And oh, well. Because although I’ve already revealed my ignorance about diamonds in previous ring shopping posts, I still say, as did Confucius, “Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without.” Consider me flawed, yet with the potential to dazzle as I overcome my challenges.

I believe there is hope for me and every other diamond-in-the-rough out there yet. It’s called life, and its attendant adversity–guaranteed to refine us and make us what we need to be; to help us be better than we would otherwise have been, as long as we choose to let it.

“Adversity is the diamond dust Heaven polishes its jewels with.” (Thomas Carlyle)

If we just keep going, making the most of our challenges, I guarantee we’ll be dazzling someday.

Thanks to the unexpected life.

That’s How We Learn

Date: November 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I grew up with six brothers. That’s how I learned to dance – waiting for the bathroom.” (Bob Hope)

I can relate, although I learned to dance in the kitchen watching my parents cha-cha before breakfast and taking a spin when my mom needed to stir something.

But that is the grand adventure of life, isn’t it?

Learning the most unexpected lessons at the most unexpected times and from the most unexpected places.

I learned honesty as a child, but learned, again, how committed I was to it when government agents were coming to my home to seize everything of value and I knew the contents of my jewelry box. It would have been so easy to take something I could sell to feed, clothe or shelter my children and none would be the wiser. Except me. And that was the problem.

So I didn’t do it, although I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. It absolutely did. When you’re left alone, financially devastated, and have four children to provide for, it’s amazing how desperate that situation can make you feel. However, I’ve never been one to sell my soul for “things” and even when the stakes were so high in my eyes, I learned I still wasn’t going to. I learned for myself I wasn’t going to break down and be dishonest after living a life of complete honesty just because my spouse had. I learned I’d rather starve or be forced to rely upon the charity of others than to choose to steal or sell my soul for any “thing.”

In that moment I also learned that as much as we know what is right, and regardless of how much a virtue (like honesty) we possess, we are never absolutely above temptation. At least, I’m imperfect enough not to be.

Life is an endless opportunity to prove ourselves and reprove ourselves and prove ourselves again, even when we think we have something mastered–we get to learn and prove ourselves in an entirely new, and unexpected, way!

Like dance. I graduated from high school and dancing in the kitchen to college, social dance class, and returning home for New Year’s Eve 1985 to cha-cha with my dad, one last time, but in public, at a dance. Later I added clogging, BYU Folk Dancers and Irish dance to the resume of my experience. And eventually, a dance class with Bachelor #5. He keeps inviting me to country/western dance, so that may be next on our list. But wherever our lesson, and our life lessons take us, this I know:

That’s how we learn. And we’re learning all the time. The tombstone will be our diploma, said Eartha Kitt.

“Be a student so long as you still have something to learn, and this will mean all your life.” (Henry L. Doherty)

Especially in the unexpected one.

Spicy Interruptions

Date: November 15, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman
“I often quote myself. It adds spice to my conversation.” (George Bernard Shaw) 

 
Last summer, Agent M and I (along with six of our eight children, and one teenaged guest) were traveling through the desert in the heat of the summer when we got a flat tire. I hadn’t been blessed with that type of unexpected experience in years. And since it was my car that developed the problem, I felt I should apologize.

The Agent looked at me and said, “These things happen. They’re a part of life. They might be a little inconvenient, but they’re no big deal. This too, shall pass.” And we were on our way again within an hour or two. No worse for the experience. (In fact, probably better for the experience. I got to see, again, firsthand, Agent M’s patience under pressure and in the heat!)

I was reminded of that experience last weekend when Agent M arranged for us to see a fabulous performance of “The Drowsy Chaperone” at The Hale Theater in West Valley City, UT.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first half of the show, had just settled into my seat after the intermission to enjoy the last half, when my daughter called. She was babysitting, reported my youngest had gotten unexpectedly sick and asked me to return home. So we did. We left mid-show and began driving toward home. I apologized to Agent M that our tickets were going to be wasted. I felt terrible that due to unexpected developments at home we weren’t going to be able to see the entire show.

He looked over at me and said, “Andrea, we have kids, eight kids! That is how it is. That’s life. Don’t worry about it.”

Life is full of interruptions. In fact, I guess you could say life is a series of interruptions. (Of which the unexpected life is a big one.)

“Interruptions can be viewed as sources of irritation or opportunities for service, as moments lost or experience gained, as time wasted or horizons widened. They can annoy us or enrich us, get under our skin or give us a shot in the arm. Monopolize our minutes or spice our schedules, depending on our attitude toward them.” (William Arthur Ward)

Again, it’s all in how you look at it and what you do with the interruptions.

I’m a fan of “spice.” Of making the most with what you’ve got. Of choosing to look for the positive in the experience gained. The interruption that became my unexpected life is the zingiest, zestiest “spice” I’ve experienced. But the way it fragranced my life has been invaluable. I believe my intellect, my memories and the lessons I learned from it, are all I’m taking with me when I leave this life.

My “spice.”

“Once you get a spice in your home, you have it forever. Women never throw out spices. The Egyptians were buried with their spices, I know which one I’m taking with me when I go.” (Erma Bombeck)


The Cure for Insomnia

Date: November 14, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?” (Ernest Hemingway)

Not too long ago, a blog reader said she noticed I do my posts in the wee hours; she wondered if I had trouble sleeping.

I thought it was interesting that she had noticed that. But I’ve noticed it too. It seems like such a little thing, yet it is one of a few big changes brought on by the unexpected life.

Insomnia.

I remember the good old days, pre the unexpected life, when I could sleep at night, as well as the last night I slept: March 17, 2009. It was the morning after that night, when I woke up and my life fell apart.

Since that time, I’ve had a lot of sleepless nights. I don’t know the sole cause for my insomnia, but it probably had something to do with shock, trauma, grief, stress, strain, worry, fear, financial devastation, life loss, divorce, sleeping alone for the first time in 20 years, and feeling so alone. At first, I couldn’t help but count my troubles like I had once counted sheep. However, that type of score keeping is not sleep inducing. In fact, it is not conducive to anything.

Life’s too short to engage in unproductive activities or behaviors. Time is too precious. So I had to let that go.

Now, instead of counting my worries before I attempt to rest, I count my blessings. I keep a little notebook by the side of my bed and try to take a few minutes at the end of each day to write something I’m grateful for. Every day there is something. You just have to look, and let your eyes see what is right in front of them.

For example, “When we were children we were grateful to those who filled our stockings at Christmas time.  Why are we not grateful to God for filling our stockings with legs?” (G.K. Chesterton)

Most days, I have to stop myself because my hand gets tired from writing so much, or because my eyes begin to blur or because I’ve fallen asleep for a few minutes with the pen in my hand.

And now you have it.

My cure for insomnia, developed under the tutelage of the unexpected life.

Gratitude.

“Develop an attitude of gratitude, and give thanks for everything that happens to you, knowing that every step forward is a step toward achieving something bigger and better than your current situation.” (Brian Tracy)

Out of The Blue

Date: November 13, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman
You have to give life credit for a few things.

For one, it’s a master of  the unexpected. (THAT is an understatement, huh? Case in point: this blog.)

Sometimes, just when you think you can’t possibly have another unexpected development, there will be one. Sometimes it involves your children. Other times it involves family or career or health or friends. Occasionally it might even involve man friends–if you happen to have my freakish “good” luck.

“O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do!” (William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing)

Last month, several months after my engagement to Bachelor #5 (in fact, if his original wedding plan had worked out, I’d have been married) I got a text message.

Completely out of the blue.

“You married or single?”

He’s Ba-ack! (Hint: Read with Jack Nicholson’s “The Shining” lilting emphasis.)

The Stalker.

I told him I was single, and before I could explain further, his texts began to fly. When I could finally get a text in, I clarified I was not married, but engaged. His texts ended as quickly and unexpectedly as they had come. And in his haste, he must have forgotten to tell me how happy he is for me! The Stalker hasn’t been seen or heard from again.

Later that SAME evening, I heard from The Ghostbuster. “Who you gonna call?” I guess, Andrea Merriman. He was friendly, gave me the update on his life (as if 6-7 months of no communication wasn’t indicative of where things stood from my end) and finally asked how I was.

“Engaged,” I replied.

The conversation ended. Not even a “congratulations,” heartfelt or otherwise. I haven’t heard from him again either.

“Save a boyfriend for a rainy day – and another, in case it doesn’t rain.” (Mae West)

No thanks.

“I can see clearly now the rain is gone.” (Johnny Nash)

Yahtzee

Date: November 12, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else.” (Albert Einstein)

The other night Bachelor #5 came over with the game, “Yahtzee.” He sat down, set it up to play, and when I asked, “Ok, now what do we do?”…you should have SEEN the look he gave me! It was almost a rolling of the eyes.

“What?” I asked.

He replied, “How do you get to be THIS old…and have never played Yahtzee?” (Do you think he’s getting me back for the age issues I had to overcome? Or the old age comments that occasionally slip out? )

So he taught me (and my two youngest) how to play. I couldn’t help but notice what a great approach to life the game of Yahtzee is.

You roll five dice each turn. And no matter what you roll, you can make it count for something you need. You get three rolls and opportunities to do that each turn, and then it’s on to the next player. The game continues as you work your way down a list of things you need to make happen–1s, 2s, 3s, three of a kind, four of a kind, chance, Yahtzee, etc…And in the end, the person with the highest score “wins.”

Yes, life is a game of Yahtzee. Sometimes a really unfair one, when the little blue cup seems filled with dice that are stacked against you. But that’s not the point. The point is what you do each time you roll with what you roll. No matter what comes up, you have the opportunity to look at what you’ve rolled, consider your prospects, look for what’s good, figure out how to make it work, and hopefully tally it all up for a win in the end.

I have been given some difficult scenarios in my life; I’ve rolled some bummer combinations. (Some were so daunting I’d have gladly traded places with just about anyone!) Each time, I had to look at what I was facing, look at what I could do with it, and work as hard as I could to make it happen–while counting on a miracle. And I have to say, life has worked out every time although not necessarily the way I planned it or thought it would. The “rolls,” many times, have turned out to be blessings.

So whether or not you’re looking at snake eyes or doubles, your score will be just what it needs to be in the end. I bet you’ll even be happy with it, as long as you keep rolling the dice you’re dealt and making the best you can out of your roll.

Keep rollin’.

“Give me today, for once, the worst throw of your dice, destiny. Today I transmute everything into gold.” (Frederick Nietzsche)