Living Happily Ever After
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The Importance of a Kind Word

Date: November 4, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“You know, somebody actually complimented me on my driving today. They left a little note on the windscreen, it said, ‘Parking Fine.’” (Tommy Cooper)

Years ago, a young woman I knew, and her parents, were killed in an airplane crash as they flew their daughter to college. They left behind three other children to continue on in a life they never expected. At the funeral someone shared that the mother sent notes to people. It was her “thing.” Her thoughtful way to express her gratitude, love, hope and encouragement to others. I was surprised at that revelation. I had received one of those notes, yet had never stopped to think that others might have too. I remember how much I appreciated that note. And then I realized how much effort, on a daily basis, that must have been for her. But what a wonderful way to live life. Taking a few moments each day to send a little light, in the form of a note, to someone else.

Recently I was cleaning out my closet and found a box. It was filled with cards, letters, notes, empathetic expressions and encouraging words from THAT time. Spring 2009. When my world fell apart. At the time I received them, I was in shock and living a nightmare. I read them as they arrived, grateful for each and every one of them. I appreciated the various methods of delivery–some came in the mail, some were tucked in the crack of my front door, some were placed under the wiper blade on the windshield of my car, some were scribbled on scraps of paper and shoved in my hand as the writer passed me in the hall at church or my children’s schools. However they arrived, whatever they were written on, each lifted me and helped me press on. Then I put them away in a box–saved them for when I moved from Colorado to Utah, alone, didn’t know anyone, and needed of a kind word of encouragement from a friend.

It seemed like rereading those thoughtful notes was the only word of encouragement I got from anyone some days.

Bachelor #5 is really good to write thoughtful messages and cards for any occasion (or no occasion), that truly brighten my day. And not just me. The day my son lettered in Varsity track, Bachelor #5 had a card for him, too. I think some people have a talent for that. But I also believe it’s a talent we all can, and probably should, develop. Especially with so many people in the world confronted by unexpected lives and in need of a kind word.

I’m going to write more notes.

I’m on the other side of my unexpected life now. I’ve risen from the ashes of destruction, I’m past the shock and trauma. I’m healing–I guess you could say I’m in the rebuilding/recreating phase. But I received a Facebook message from an old friend that brightened my outlook on life the same as other notes did in 2009: “Well, the old geezer is checking up on ya! Almost a year since our last exchange. Knowing you from many years ago, I think it’s a good bet that the sun is back in the sky. I have thought of you often…but am certain you have found a way to not only survive but excel, it’s just who you are. So, young lady, dare you to prove me wrong, dare ya! Fill me in on your adventure!”

Besides the fact that he called me “Young Lady,” I LOVE his digital note. I don’t care who you are or what you’ve been through, how can you NOT feel like you’re going to make it when someone sends such a positive note of confidence in your ability to do that? I am so thankful for him, and for the many good people everywhere, who have taken the time to encourage me, verbally or in writing.

I think I’ll send him a note and tell him that.

And then maybe I’ll suggest he read my blog, so he can read my adventure for himself.:)

As Simple As That

Date: September 17, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“My mother says I didn’t open my eyes for eight days after I was born, but when I did, the first thing I saw was an engagement ring. I was hooked.” (Elizabeth Taylor)

He’d been telling me for quite awhile he’d marry me tomorrow if I were willing. I had eventually responded by saying, “It’s time.”

I was happy, calm and content–absolutely willing to enjoy that state of being for awhile. When I’d uttered those two words, I hadn’t envisioned moving forward with anything beyond that in the near future. Life had been moving pretty fast for me; I was ready for a “breather!”

However, a few days later while driving down the road, Bachelor #5 threw in the phrase, “And then we’ll go ring shopping if we have time.” If I had been the one driving the car, it would have come to a screeching halt right at that moment. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The thought of setting foot in a jewelry store and shopping for an engagement ring, at my age, was something I’d never thought of or planned on!

I’m not sure why. I wish I could say I handled it well, but that would be less than truthful. Thankfully, we didn’t get around to it for a few more days. But that didn’t make it any easier for me. I was slightly slower to convert to the idea than, say, Elizabeth Taylor.

But Bachelor #5 didn’t give up. He remained patient and calm through the whole process. (And it WAS a process.)

We entered the first jewelry store together. An innocent young salesman approached. I don’t think he had any idea what he was in for. But neither did I.

I don’t know the typical female response to ring shopping, but I wasn’t sitting down and anxious to look at any rings or try any on, and I certainly wasn’t gushing over anything that sparkled. I’d never gone ring shopping, or looked at diamonds, in my entire life. I didn’t know much.

I was finally persuaded to try on a setting that I didn’t love, but I had to start somewhere to appease Bachelor #5 and the clerk. With the setting on my finger, the clerk dropped an assortment of loose diamonds into the center of it for me to look at. I didn’t know if it was the size of the diamonds or my age (aka. poor eyesight) but I had a hard time seeing the diamonds very well. Everything seemed so small. I said to the clerk, “I’m sorry. But these diamonds all seem so small. I think you’re going to have to show me some diamonds that are at least a karat. Yes, at my age, I think I need at least a karat.”

The salesman replied, “Ma’am, all of the stones I’m showing you are LARGER than a karat; in fact, most of them are close to two karats!” (See? I told you I didn’t know anything.)

I knew then and there I was fighting a battle I couldn’t win because I didn’t even have a clue what the rules were! We left without buying anything. And the only decision I’d arrived at after that ring shopping experience, was that I didn’t want a diamond ring.

I hated ring shopping. The things men “make” women do. Lol.

“Men are like a deck of cards, you need a heart to love ‘em, a diamond to marry ‘em, a club to beat ‘em and a spade to bury ‘em.”

If only it were as simple as that.

The Last Day of My Old Life

Date: March 17, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

March 17, 2010.  Today.

Today I can’t help but remember the last day of my old life.  March 17, 2009.  What a difference one year, even ONE DAY, makes.

Last year at this time my biggest concern was making sure everyone wore green!  I remember sending my middle son off to school, at his insistence, in a glittery green leprechaun-looking top hat, shamrock sunglasses, green beads, a green shirt, and sparkly green boxers over his clothes; shaking my head at his appearance as he climbed the steps of the school bus.  I remember making sure my three-year-old wore a green “cowboy” shirt to his riding lesson.  I made sure I served green food at dinner.  Oh, and I took pictures.  Unknowingly, I documented much of the last day of my family’s life.

However, we didn’t eat dinner as a family that night; it was just the kids and I.  Unusual, now that I think about it.  My spouse had a meeting with a church leader, at the church leader’s request (he told me), during dinnertime. When he got home from his meeting, it was a low key family night the rest of the evening.  Everything was normal.  We even watched American Idol, family-style, that night–as usual.  We all went to bed and slept.

It was the last night I slept.

I wonder, now, how one member of our family lived that day like everything was normal, posed for a photo, and watched tv with us like nothing unusual was about to happen?  Like he wasn’t about to deal our family the biggest destructive blow anyone had ever not imagined?  And how he dealt us a hand of cards he had stacked and shuffled without ever informing us of the game he was playing.

I’d never been much of a card player.  But thank goodness my mom was.  She wasn’t around March 17, 2009, but she had taught me to play any hand I was dealt.  She had prepared me.

A terrible hand was looming, and I didn’t even know it.  I think life has, perhaps, the best “poker face” of all.  According to Voltaire, “Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her; but once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game.”  It was up to me to play the game and win.

Get ready for March 18, Andrea.

The game of your life, for your life and the lives of your children, is about to begin.