Living Happily Ever After
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Anticipation

Date: October 5, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The poetry is all in the anticipation…” (Mark Twain)

I arrived home from the life-changing date at Sundance to find my daughter waiting up for me. I’ll never forget where she was sitting, facing the front door to catch me right as I walked in, or the look of anticipation in her eyes.

“Well?” she asked. “Did anything exciting happen on your date tonight?” She had totally known. And she had never said a word.

I told her Bachelor #5 had proposed, I’d said yes, and she beamed her delight.

My oldest son got home late that night after work. He headed right to my bedroom, anticipation dancing in his eyes. With a huge grin, he asked me about my night. I cut right to the chase and told him I was getting married. He beamed, hugged me, said, “Congratulations,” told me how happy he was for me and how much he liked Bachelor #5.

I was blown away by their maturity. Who has teenagers that react to news like that the way mine did? (Like supportive adults?) I do. Through our entire unexpected life, my children have been supportive of everything I have had to do: return to the work force, move our family to a new state, drastically change our lifestyle and everything that goes with losing the only financial life we’ve ever known–and they’ve stepped up to help me do everything adults, or a spouse, would do as well. All without a complaint.

They have also been supportive of everything else I have attempted: they encouraged me to date, find a nice man and remarry. They told me I was going to get remarried, without a doubt, because I was a “catch”–even when I didn’t believe I was one. They tended their siblings so I could socialize. They were open-minded about the singles scene, manfriends, and especially about Bachelor #5 from the moment they met him. And they rejoiced with me in the miracle of finding the man who completes me (and our family.)

“…love…when it’s right, it’s the best thing in the world. When you’re in a relationship and it’s good, even if nothing else in your life is right, you feel like your whole world is complete.” (Keith Sweat)

I can relate to that. Although I’m still dealing with fallout, the consequences and some “messes” left to me by the events of 2009, MY world is complete. Unexpectedly so. And it IS the best thing in the world.

Wounds And Healing

Date: October 4, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It’s like trying to describe what you feel when you’re standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon or remembering your first love or the birth of your child. You have to be there to really know what it’s like.” (Jack Schmitt)

I don’t think you can describe the moments that come after a MOMENT like that, so I won’t even try–anyone who has ever experienced “a moment,” will understand why. But you get the picture.

Bachelor #5 proposed. I said “yes.” And we continued our walk on the paths at Sundance Resort, eventually stopping and sitting on a bench, talking, gazing up the mountain at the beautiful scene before us. I don’t know about Agent M, but I felt very at peace with the world. With everything. It was the greatest sense of peace, such a feeling of calm, a sense of complete and total healing like I hadn’t experienced since…prior to March 18, 2009.

Eventually, the sun began to set. He stood up, reached for my hand and suggested we head home. We had children to share our news with. I gave him my hand, and took one last look at Sundance, the mountain, the flowers, the evening light. I took a deep breath and inhaled the fragrance of the mountain air. I tried to memorize everything about that evening and its many moments, how I felt at that day’s end.

Whole.

Healed.

“When I stand before thee at the day’s end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.” (Rabindranath Tagore)

I had my wounds. I had healed. And I had a fiance.

The Unexpected Life.

I Didn’t

Date: October 3, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Now the choice has finally been made, you’ve put the story on the front page and produced the sort of collection of special reports that usually accompanies a major news event, not the announcement of the casting of one tired old film role.” (James Bond)

It was my 4th marriage proposal since becoming single.

It’s the first one I seriously considered.

And unlike Carrie Underwood, who said, “It’s nice to know you have support. Last night I got a marriage proposal. I just laughed,” I didn’t laugh.

I didn’t even throw up.

I cried.

And then I said yes.

I was getting married. To Bachelor #5.

I’d searched high (and low, as documented by some of the men I dated!) for him. And in the end, there were 31 men but there was only one winner. Bachelor #5. Mr. Awesome. The one I said, “Yes,” to; my “yes” man.

“I only have ‘yes’ men around me. Who needs ‘no’ men?” (Mae West)

By the way, his name is Mike. But since I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want anyone to know his name, and for the sake of his anonymity and to honor the stealth in which he won my heart by simply being himself while making me think he was never even remotely interested in me, and because I don’t think we can really call him a “bachelor” anymore, shall we call him…Agent M?

I think James Bond, or Albert Broccoli, would approve. And besides, you should see Agent M in a tuxedo.

In My Dreams

Date: October 2, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“In my dreams, I could be a Princess, and that’s what I was. Like most little girls, I believed nothing less than a Prince could make my dreams come true.” (Loretta Young)

A marriage proposal is a moment. In time. In life. In dreams. And that marriage proposal moment with Bachelor #5 was no different–it was one of THOSE moments. Surreal, yet very real. When the past and the present come together. Where time seems to stands still.

The man I had fallen in love with was kneeling before me, proposing marriage, and this is what I was thinking:

“Is this REALLY happening?”

“Oh my gosh! THIS is a moment.”

“Focus, Andrea. You have to hear and remember everything he says!”

“My memory is terrible–how am I going to do that?”

“I have to remember this, I have to try to remember this moment, and this feeling, for the rest of my life.”

“Wait a second…what did he just say? That was really good, I HAVE to remember that!”

“Oh no! I can’t remember what he first said. I have to remember everything!”

My thoughts were racing. And then they turned to these:

“In one moment everything I loved, treasured, had known and held on to had been ripped out of my grasp; my entire existence devastated and destroyed. Words cannot express (although I’ve tried!) the depth of pain, grief, shock, sadness and betrayal that were mine in a single moment. Yet just 13 months later, although I’ve been absolutely convinced no one would ever want an ‘old bag’ like me again, that I was destined to remain alone for the rest of my existence, that my children would remain ‘fatherless’ and without male influence during the formative years of their childhood, my entire world is on the brink of near complete and total restoration. Words also cannot express the joy, exhilaration, depth of healing, happiness, and trust in something new–new hopes, new dreams, this new man, a new life, a new future and new possibilities–that are mine again. How can this be?”

In that moment I was overwhelmed by all that I had lost, by all that I had gone through, by all that I had learned, and also by gratitude for all that was now mine. I was so overwhelmed by all of that, tears rolled down my cheeks.

I think that’s one essential part of fairy tales that The Brothers Grimm and The Disney Corporation leave out of their stories. I bet those princesses cry when they realize that despite everything they’ve lost and have gone through–despite the dark forests they’re thrust into, the poison apples they’re handed, the cinders they sweep and the floors they scrub–they are on the brink of their happily ever. How can they be anything but overwhelmed by the emotions that surface when they see there really is a chance, after all, that all of their dreams can come true? And that maybe their lives are going to, as all fairy tales do, end with the promise of happily ever after.

Yes, I bet they cry. I know I did. Because, “Being a princess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” (Princess Diana) You’re just going to have to trust me on that one. I don’t recommend anyone find out the way I did!

So, “If you see me as just the princess then you misunderstand who I am and what I have been through. (Mariah Carey) Because all princesses are more than the sum of their miseries and the towers they’re locked in.

“I love that whole princess mentality, but I also like throwing my hair in a ponytail and just wearing jeans, going on a hike and then eating a big chili-cheeseburger.” (Jennifer Love Hewitt)

I Guess I Was The Enemy

Date: October 1, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.”
(Nelson Mandela)

Bachelor #5 arrived to pick me up, looking his usual handsome, but more dressed up than was typical for our dates.

He took me to his favorite restaurant at Sundance Resort. We had a table by the fireplace. The service was excellent; the food was delicious. Everything was perfect.

The only odd aspect of the evening was that Bachelor #5 asked our server to take a picture of us at dinner. He’d never done that before, but I figured we’d known each other six months and he’d decided it was time for us to take a picture. I’ve never been a fan of photos taken at a table and tried to get out of it but Bachelor #5 insisted. I said, “But wait. What if I don’t like the picture?” to which he replied, “Oh well, I will!” and the server snapped the picture and documented the moment. An ordinary moment, I thought.

There are no ordinary moments, by the way. I was soon going to remember that.

We finished our meal and went for a walk on the wooded paths that are Sundance. It was a beautiful evening. Mountain flowers were blooming, birds were singing, you could hear the breeze gently blowing through the pine trees; fish were swimming in a little pond. We walked around a corner to a very private spot at the bottom of the mountain, facing beautiful pine trees, and Bachelor #5 stopped. He turned to face me and said, “I’ve actually brought you here for a reason.”

“I brought you here so I could propose to you.”

I was shocked. I argued, “You have not!”

He smiled at me and patiently said, “Yes, I have. Now, don’t move and don’t say anything.”

He got down on one knee, held both of my hands in his, said the most beautiful things he could ever have said to me…and then he asked me to marry him.

A perfect proposal of marriage. Right out of a fairy tale. (Minus the pumpkin coach, of course; we had traveled there in a Honda.)

I hadn’t been expecting anything of the sort that evening. I think it was Thomas Jackson who said, “Always mystify, mislead and surprise the enemy if possible,” and that night, I guess I was the enemy. I was so surprised, I can’t even remember the exact words Bachelor #5 spoke, I just remember how overwhelmed I was by the reality of the moment, and that in it he covered every hope, fear, concern and dream I’d ever had–especially since beginning my unexpected life.

“A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes.” (Mark Twain)

Is that wedding bells I hear?

Maybe.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

Taken By Surprise

Date: September 30, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“A sudden bold and unexpected question doth many times surprise a man and lay him open.” (Francis Bacon)

Have you ever been taken by surprise?

I have a few times in my life. Most recently, the night Bachelor #5 asked if he even had a chance with me; the first few times he told me he’d marry me tomorrow if I were willing; the night he mentioned “September;” and… one other time.

I had a date with Bachelor #5. That night, as I was getting ready, I was surprised to find I had unexpected help. My daughter (and her friend) were very interested in what I was going to wear and how I was going to look for my date that night.

The girls were digging through every piece of clothing that comprised my limited wardrobe, trying to find just the right thing for me to wear. Their concern was palpable; as if I’d made a habit of dressing like a circus performer and they wanted to save me from my habitual fashion disasters for a night.

“Laugh, clown, laugh. This is what I tell myself whenever I dress up like Bozo.” (Jack Handy)

Although I never would have chosen divorce and my single status but for the circumstances that led to it, I have to admit, a fun memory from my unexpected life was getting ready for my first date with the assistance of my sister and my daughter; and getting ready for many other dates with the assistance of my daughter, who was always on hand and always prepared with outfit suggestions and wardrobe ideas to help her mother look her best. It was like being a teenager again. Those nights before parties, dances, or evenings out, when friends would come over to help me get ready for a special occasion, or we’d get ready together. It felt a little like that, having my sister and my daughter help me.

But that night was the first time in awhile my daughter had been so concerned about what I was going to wear and look like on a date; however, she had a friend over and I figured it was a teenage girl thing–a novelty for the friend because her parents are married, she hasn’t had to watch her mother date men she didn’t know; and I figured they were bored, and thus more than willing to impart of their fashion expertise in an attempt to liven up a quiet Saturday night.

“If you are single there is always one thing you should take out with you on a Saturday night… your friends.” (Sarah Jessica Parker)

And fashion advice from a beautiful and stylish teenage daughter!

If Real Life Was Like The Movies

Date: September 29, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Hawaii is a unique state. It is a small state. It is a state that is by itself. It…is different from the other 49 states. Well, all states are different, but it’s got a particularly unique situation.” (Dan Quayle)

Still no ring, but we had survived our first “intense discussion.” And while the wait for the ring continued, Bachelor #5 helped take my mind off the wait. One day I got a very unexpected email, and invitation, from Bachelor #5: “Hey, I just had a crazy idea. What if you and I fly to Hawaii for a long weekend? Let me know what you think.”

Since 1993, in 17 years, I had left my children a total of 17 nights. The pre-unexpected life me would have declined that invitation without a second thought. But I was living an entirely different life, now, and the “new” me decided to at least entertain the idea. I just needed to see how my children felt about it. They were supportive, so I arranged for childcare, and one morning a few weeks later found myself on my way to Hawaii.

I never expected that.

We stayed with Bachelor #5′s best friends, a husband and wife he had known since college. (In fact, he introduced them to each other.) It was wonderful to meet them. As Bachelor #5 and I both had ties to Hawaii, it was also a great opportunity for us to see our old favorite places but make new memories with each other. The trip reinforced to me how many “near misses” we’d had; how close we’d been to meeting each other, but never actually met until my unexpected life began.

For example, while attending BYU-Hawaii, Bachelor #5 participated in a performing group. Imagine my surprise when we realized I’d gotten a piano scholarship from the group’s professor and director but I’d turned it down and attended college, instead, at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.

Another example: My parents co-owned a home on Oahu’s Hukilau Beach when I was a girl. I spent time there boogie boarding every summer. I’d taken my children to that same beach for several years to share part of my childhood with them. And then I found myself sharing that same experience with Bachelor #5. While we were in the water looking toward the houses on shore, Bachelor #5 pointed out the house he’d lived in during his time in Hawaii–four houses down the beach from my parents’ house! I remembered college men had lived there (I’d seen them on the beach occasionally, I just never paid much attention to them because they were “older” than me.) I never realized that Bachelor #5 may have been one of them!

It reminded me of a movie I saw years ago starring Gwyneth Paltrow. Actually two movies in one, it showed one plot and story that took place as she made it onto a subway car before the door closed and a parallel version and story with different events, experiences and developments that took place when she missed the subway and the door closed before she could board. Interestingly, by the end of the movie, both stories took her to the same destination and life situation; both versions had the same ending, just chronicled different events that got her to the same point at the end.

While in Hawaii, I couldn’t help but compare that bit of Hollywood fiction to my reality.

“And if real life was like the movies, I should have lived happily ever after.” (Piper Laurie)

It was healing to realize, again, that sometimes we really do have to pass through indescribably difficult things to get to where we need to be; that all things truly can work together for our good IF we allow them to. And if we don’t quit too soon or give up (even when we’re overwhelmed with the path our journey has taken) we can trust that we’ll end up right where we have needed to be all along. Possibly even at the same “ending.” Our own “happily ever after.”

“Nothing is so awesomely unfamiliar as the familiar that discloses itself at the end of a journey.” (Cynthia Ozick)

No Ring But Plenty of Secrets

Date: September 28, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

There wasn’t a ring. There wasn’t an engagement. But my children were catching on. Something was up.

One day Bachelor #5 picked me up for a date. We were both dressed up, and my four year old asked, “Where are you guys going? Are you going to get married?”

Another time, Bachelor #5 reported that my middle son caught him alone and asked, “When are you going to propose to my mom?” To which he had jokingly replied, “I asked, but she said I was too old!”

Who needs Cupid when you’ve got your little boys covering your back, huh?

Bachelor #5 took my oldest children to lunch. Afterward, he told me I had great kids. When I asked him why he thought that and what they’d talked about at lunch, he replied, “We decided that we wouldn’t tell you what happened at lunch and keep you in the dark.”

No problem, Bachelor #5, I thought. I’ll just ask my children. Except that actually was a problem, because my children refused to divulge anything related to lunch with Bachelor #5!

“Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.” (Benjamin Franklin)

Actually, that’s not true. Obviously Benjamin never met Bachelor #5…or my two oldest children. Not one of them ever said a word.

You’ve Got To Smell A Lot Of Manure Before…

Date: September 27, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“You got to have smelt a lot of mule manure before you can sing like a hillbilly.” (Hank Williams)

Bachelor #5 is a self-described oldest child and a “planner.” So am I, although sometimes Bachelor #5 makes me look like a disorganized, fly-by-the-seat-of-my pants hippie compared to him.

Nowhere was this more evident than the time we shared our first “intense discussion.” Although it wasn’t a fight, it was probably the closest thing we’ve ever come to fighting about anything. It was over the dumbest thing, especially for this age and stage of our lives, but isn’t that how most “intense discussions” are? Over silly things?

It must be our oldest child, “planning” natures…because our discussion was regarding death, funerals, and where to be buried–even though we’re both healthy forty-somethings who SO don’t need to worry about that right now. Ridiculous!

But who says every courtship conversation has to be sensible? If that’s in the rules of dating, Bachelor #5 and I both missed it.

It began one night while driving to see a play. Somehow the topic of where to buried after we died came up. We had very different ideas about it. And for some reason, like mules, we both dug our heels in. I can’t think of another time we’ve done that, but like I said, it was an intense conversation. Let the braying begin!

Some highlights. Just to reinforce my mule status (and Bachelor #5′s, too.) Not in any order…

He (patiently) said it was a good thing we didn’t have to make a decision about that now. I said it was a good thing it came up before we got engaged, or married, because it was a total deal breaker for me. He looked at me, in shock, and asked, “You seriously wouldn’t marry me over a difference of opinion on where to be buried?” Like a mule, I said, “Oh, yes. Absolutely!” (Round one went to me. Hee-haw!)

He said it was a second marriage, so who dictated we had to be buried together? He said we could each do what we wanted. That hurt my feelings and made me feel as though he thought a remarriage wasn’t as important as a first marriage. And I couldn’t believe he’d want to be buried somewhere other than beside me! (I declare Bachelor #5 the winner/mule of round two. Hee-haw! Hee-haw!)

Ironically, in the debate I was holding out for tiny Ephraim, Utah, where my parents and ancestors are buried as my final resting place–even though I have never even lived there! For some reason, I was kicking against the pricks for all I was worth. (I have to give myself additional mule points for that.)

We discontinued the discussion, sort of agreed to disagree, and enjoyed the remainder of the evening. But I couldn’t believe how stubborn I’d been about something so silly. The more I thought about it, the more embarrassed I became about my stubbornness. What had I been thinking?

When I saw Bachelor #5 the next night, I brought it up again to apologize, and as soon as I opened my mouth, Bachelor #5 did the same thing: I told him I didn’t know why I made such a big deal about that and was so stubborn about a place I’ve never even lived, I just wanted to be with him; Bachelor #5 said he didn’t care where he was buried, he just wanted to be with me–but also added he had been trying to show me that other families, besides the Christensen family, love their traditions and are as steeped in their heritage as I am in mine!

However, I recently discovered that issue is not completely over. Last week the subject of funerals came up. Don’t ask me how. We really do talk about many other things that are not death-related. In fact, to my recollection, we’ve only had two death-related discussions ever–and I’m blogging about both of them.

Bachelor #5 felt very strongly about some things, of which I feel strongly in exactly the opposite direction, and I could sense another hillbilly conversation coming. So could Bachelor #5, because he said, “I can be flexible on where to be buried, do whatever you want, but I will not negotiate on THIS.”

To which I jokingly asked if a disclaimer could be printed on his funeral program stating I had nothing to do with, and no control over, the program! We both laughed. And knowing Bachelor #5…he has probably already written the disclaimer and filed it away for future reference.

Hee-haw! Hee-haw!

Apparently, you’ve got to smell a lot of mule manure before you can sing like a hillbilly or…before you get an engagement ring.

The Ring II

Date: September 26, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“There’s only a short walk from the hallelujah to the hoot.” (William Kennedy)

And then one day, Bachelor #5 got a call from the jewelry store. From my perspective, it felt like we’d been waiting so long the phone call was slightly unexpected. The ring was in! (Does anyone besides me hear a chorus of unseen angels singing something akin to, “Hallelujah?”)

That was the good news.

Unfortunately, there was bad news as well. Upon inspection, the ring hadn’t met the jeweler’s expectation of quality, so he had sent it back to be re-made!

No ring.

I believe some things are worth waiting for. And that’s a good thing. Because I was going to continue to need some practice, and patience, along those lines. Stay tuned.

“All good things arrive unto them that wait – and don’t die in the meantime.” (Mark Twain)