Living Happily Ever After

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Knowns and Unknowns

“There are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we know we don’t know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don’t know we don’t know.” (Donald Rumsfeld)

When #5 and I were dating, shortly after he told me how he felt about me, he showed up one night with a book. It was titled something like, “1,000 Questions For Divorced People To Ask Before They Get Married Again.” He told me he thought we’d work our way through the questions in the book that night, and on future dates. That book and the whole idea of it caught me off guard, and while I thumbed through it a little bit as he drove, we didn’t really utilize it for our conversations. In fact, I probably made some jokes about it and assured #5 we didn’t need a book like that. (I mean, I interview people for a living!) And eventually, over the course of our unexpectedly long engagement, I forgot about it.

Then it came time to marry. One night I looked at him and exclaimed, “Wait! Where’s that book? We should read it!”

“What book?” he asked.

“The one about everything we need to know, and ask, before we get married,” I answered.

“I got rid of it,” he replied.

“WHAT?” I asked. “Why did you do that? We didn’t even read it.”

“You told me we didn’t need it,” he answered. “So I got rid of it.”

I took a leap of faith…and married him without the aid of that book. Everything went quite well until last week,  when I went to a bridal shower to honor the fiancee of #5′s oldest son.

During the event, they played a game where the fiancee had to answer a long list of questions about her intended. If she didn’t know the answer to a question, she had to chew a piece of bubblegum–adding a new piece to the blob that was accumulating in her mouth for each wrong answer or any answer she didn’t know. And although she ended up with a mouth full of bubblegum, she knew a LOT about #5′s son! I sat there marveling at all she knew about the man she was marrying and I came to a realization: I didn’t know #5–AT ALL.

Honeymoon over.

When I got home, #5 asked me how the evening went. I replied, “Fine, but it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?” he  asked.

“That I don’t know you–at all!” I answered. “I feel like I don’t know you at all and I’m trying to remember what we talked about the whole time we dated and were engaged, since there is so much about you I don’t know!”

“Like what?” he challenged.

I began to rattle off questions from the bridal shower I didn’t know:  favorite actor, favorite play, favorite song, favorite color, first girlfriend, first kiss and many other facts. I wanted #5′s answers; I’m married to him, I probably ought to know him!

That quest, however, brought me to additional realizations, like the realization that there is a reason I don’t know #5. To every answer except the favorite movie  one (his favorite movie is the original “Parent Trap–” he had a mad crush on Haley Mills, I think!) he either didn’t have a favorite or he needed more clarification: did I mean his first girlfriend (from 1st grade), his first REAL girlfriend, or his first girlfriend after his divorce? If experts say intelligent people tend to over-analyze questions and situations, I guess you could say the biggest thing I learned that night was the extent of #5′s intelligence; he is even more intelligent than I had originally thought! He asked for so much clarification I gave up and asked him an easy question I knew he’d know the answer to.

“Never mind, just tell me, where was our first kiss?”

Without missing a beat and without absolutely any hesitation he quickly answered, “At my house, by the door leading to the garage…” and he went on to describe everything in great detail. There was just one problem. That wasn’t OUR first kiss. THAT I knew.

“Must have been someone else,” I joked.

“It isn’t what we don’t know that gives us trouble, it’s what we know that ain’t so.” (Will Rogers)

Apparently, I’m not the only one who doesn’t KNOW things!

Second marriage moment #10. That instant where I realized, again, that I was so happily married to a man I love despite the fact I don’t even “know” him! (Or at least, trivial details about him.) And that’s ok, because as Katharine Hepburn said, “Someone asked someone who was about my age, ‘How are you?’ The answer was, ‘Fine. If you don’t ask for details.’”


When You’re The One Who Has To Fix It

“The fellow that owns his own home is always just coming out of a hardware store.” (Frank McKinney Hubbard)

I’m pretty sure that’s how #5, my new husband, feels—especially since moving in with me and my four children! Gone are those carefree days he enjoyed as a single dad with one self-sufficient 12-year-old son, living quietly together in a townhome, retired from yardwork and a plethora of other things that now keep him busy! Like trips to Home Depot. Out of necessity. I’m pretty sure his new mantra is, “Well, I’m off to Home Depot!”

In the two months we’ve lived together, I’m embarrassed at the extra work I’ve caused #5. And I’m not just talking about the myriad of little things around a house that have needed to be taken care of—like the kitchen pantry door that broke and needed to be painted and replaced; the holes in the wall my youngest and his neighborhood friends made when trying to hang off shelves that used to be bolted to the wall; the hole in the wall caused by a child throwing open a door a little too fast with a little too much energy; toilets; clogged drains; doorknobs; garbage disposal issues; smoke detector batteries; and lots of burned out light bulbs that need to be replaced!

I’m talking about the day I stood and flushed the toilet at the exact moment a bottle of lotion fell off the shelf above it, STRAIGHT down the hole, at the exact moment the swirling water went with it. GONE! And then the toilet didn’t work anymore. (It had to be completely taken out of the bathroom and the lotion bottle practically surgically removed from its innards before replacing the toilet again.)

Or the day a decorative painted bowl, of its own free will, spontaneously fell off the shelf above the kitchen cupboards onto the Jenn Air stove top and shattered not just the bowl, but the entire stove top! (Not only was that one a lot of work for #5, but it was expensive, too! Oops.)

He has fixed it all without comment or complaint. He just smiles at me and goes to work to take care of it despite the fact he is NOT a home repairman. (I think he’d much rather be singing, playing the piano, acting, working out, dancing, or even reading instead.) In fact, he uses it so often, he has taken to keeping his toolbox at the ready beside his side of the bed!

And then one day, he broke something. Or at least, I thought he did. He looked at me with a stunned expression, and I started celebrating. “Yes! You finally broke something! I am SO glad! Think of everything I’ve broken and all of the extra work I’ve caused you, now I’m not the only one! I’m so relieved you broke something!” But no. I celebrated too soon. Turns out, #5 hadn’t broken anything after all.

But he remains a trooper and continues to fix, without complaint, all of the little things. He inherited a yard when he thought he’d never have to maintain a yard again. And, most importantly, he took on four additional children, including a four-year-old, when he had mostly raised his family. The impact he has made and everything he has helped “fix” around the house and in our lives astounds me.

Second marriage moment #9.

“There are a [heck] of a lot of jobs that are easier than live comedy. Like standing in the operating room when a guy’s heart stops, and you’re the one who has to fix it!” (Jon Stewart)


If They Could Read

“In Hollywood, the woods are full of people that learned to write but evidently can’t read. If they could read their stuff, they’d stop writing.” (Will Rogers)

I live in Utah now, not Hollywood, and I enjoy the woods up Provo Canyon my fair share.

Just two years ago I lost everything I thought was my life, except my four children, and had to make sense of the unexpected events handed me. I had the world’s share of shame, humiliation and unwanted publicity; my fair share of ups and downs, failures and successes; but I realized again, with each passing day, that life is always a choice and your life will be exactly what you make of it. (Granted, sometimes you’re blessed with better material to work with than at other times, but you can always choose to find happiness and to experience joy regardless of your life conditions. You can always strive to look on the bright side and to treat others with kindness despite the misery of your current situation. )

In this blog I’ve explained some of what I’ve lived through, how I’ve chosen to respond and why I’ve done the things I’ve done and any and all mistakes that I have made. I’ve shared all that I’ve hoped for and worked toward, the unexpected experiences I never imagined I’d have, the things I’ve learned and their outcomes. And while I know not every unexpected life results in a happy ending of complete and utter perfection, I believe you can choose to create your own fairy tales and live happily ever after.

For example, Cinderella lived through a lot of hard stuff. It’s not fun being left penniless (been there, done that!), orphaned (I can relate to that) and at the mercy of a wicked stepmother. Cinderella, with the help of her fairy godmother and her friends (mice and other farm animals) did find her handsome prince, yet she never got her mom or dad back in this life–not every thing, not every aspect, of Cinderella’s unexpected life became total perfection at the end of her story, but she did live happily ever after.

I’m grateful for that example. Fairy tales are magical. They’re great stories. They’re a wonderful escape. They give us hope. And they can teach us important things. As I look back at my life and the countless hours I spent in the nurture of fairy tale fiction, I realize fairy tales helped give me dreams; they gave me something to set my little girl sights on, so that when I grew up and and was thrust into the worst nightmare I never imagined possible, I had all of those fictional examples of triumph over tragedy, all of those imaginary happily ever afters, to help me hold on and cling to the real dreams I’d once had. They gave me courage to press forward and keep going, to create a new chapter of my story and to live a new version of my happily ever after.

A happy ending doesn’t mean complete and total restoration of what you had before. Instead, I believe it is embracing what you have now been given, looking for the good, and choosing to be happy in your new story while working to create a new and continuing happy ending for yourself and your loved ones.

It was the same with Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Rose Red, Thumbelina, The Goose Girl and every other fairy tale heroine. Not necessarily a “perfect” ending, but a fairy tale perfect for them.

THAT is life.

Every single one.

Every unexpected one, because I believe we all have one.

But enough of that. Never let it be said that I can’t read–or understand Will Rogers’ wisdom–so I’ll close with this:

My undying thanks to everyone who was there for me in my old life, when my mostly-perfect world fell apart, during my divorce, and as I began a new life. Thanks to all who helped my children, who helped me, who shared our journey in person or via this blog, and for every single person who reached out to me and my family and shared their love and kindness with us. Every single one of you is known and remembered by us. Every single kindness will never be forgotten. We are better because of each of you.

In fact, we made it, thanks to you.

We’re going to live happily ever after.

The End.

As in, that’s the end of this portion of my story. Feel free to check in for occasional posts about life and my entirely new and unexpected life experiences in remarriage and as a stepmother. Like every other aspect of the unexpected life, it’s completely uncharted territory. I’m sure I’ll make my fair share of mistakes along the way, the only thing I can promise about all of it is that I’ll NEVER intentionally be a wicked stepmother! And I have a feeling, if it goes the way everything else has, it’s going to be quite another unexpected ride!

Fairies And Wings And…Teeth

“Listen to the wisdom of the toothless ones.” (Fijian Proverb)

A few weeks into our marriage, my middle son lost a tooth. He excitedly placed it in the special tooth fairy box (after several kids’ lost teeth, I found there was something easier than digging around underneath a pillow in the dark!) on the nightstand beside his bed and anxiously waited to see what the tooth fairy would deliver by morning.

The only problem?

He forgot to tell me what he had done. And I, his mother, had a few things on my mind: four children, new stepchildren, condensing houses, adjusting to everyone living together, full-time job, getting everyone where they needed to be at the times they needed to be there, my new marriage, and the usual worries and cares regarding bills and finances. Amidst all the other stuff, I forgot that most important item, nestled in its box, in the basement.

After a day or two of forgetfulness, my son said, “Sure do wish the tooth fairy could make a visit and hopefully leave me some money!” Oops.

A day or two after that my son reminded, “Can you believe it’s taking the tooth fairy so long to find me and my tooth?” Nope.

A few days later my son warned, “My tooth is ROTTING in the box!” Yuck. I’m not sure I want to discover what that means.

Of course, #5 wasn’t much help. He never remembered, himself, and never even remembered to remind me! Instead, he asked my son if he realized silver teeth were worth more than regular ones. Before my son got too excited at the prospect of that, I had to clarify that this daughter-of-a-former-dentist did NOT believe the tooth fairy valued a tooth so cavity-filled it had needed a silver cap on it as more valuable than a normal, healthy, cavity-free tooth! Another time #5 asked my son if he realized the longer you had to wait for the tooth fairy to take your tooth, the more money she generally left. I had to quash that one, too. (The adjustments you have to make in a second marriage–you’re both coming from two totally different worlds, with different ideas and expectations…even regarding the tooth fairy! Lol, but true.) We endured several nights of forgetfulness and then the one night before bed, when I actually did remember there was a duty to be done, I couldn’t find any cash in the entire house!

One evening, when I checked on my son before I went to bed, I saw a note he had written to remind the tooth fairy of the duty she had neglected–almost begging her to take his tooth! I dashed back upstairs, found some money, and quietly snuck through the dark of his bedroom, opened the lid of the tooth fairy box, dropped the cash in, and ran back upstairs before I was caught in the act of aiding and abetting the fairy of all things dental.

I couldn’t wait for the next morning, when my son discovered his reward and realized he hadn’t been forgotten after all! And it couldn’t have happened at a better time. Just when I was starting to feel like a loser mother, I had remembered what I needed to. Great job, Andrea! (I couldn’t help but congratulate myself on an important job, finally, well-done.)

The next morning my son appeared in the kitchen. I was brimming with expectation and excitement and he only slightly let me down when he said, “The tooth fairy came! She even gave me $1! But can you believe…she forgot to take my tooth?”

Sometimes you just can’t get it right.

Even if you’re trying to help the tooth fairy out.

Especially if you’re a newlywed.

Second marriage moment #8.

“All I know is that I’ve ruled out wearing fairy wings. When I was nine I wanted to get married in fairy wings, and now I realize that’s not cool anymore.” (Isla Fisher)

My Ellis Island

“Choose your new name carefully. Practice signing with it. Have a few people close to you call you by that name, and see how you like it. You can change your first name, middle name, last name, or all of the above. Just make sure your new name doesn’t imply “fraudulent intent” or is not in the public interest.” (wikiHow)

I took more time off work and returned to the Social Security Office the very next morning. I thought, since they closed at 4 p.m., that they’d open at 8 a.m. but I was wrong. I waited an hour for the doors to open, took a number (I was first in line and got the first number of the day), and stepped forward to wait my turn.

As I stood there waiting for my number to be called, the only clerk helped someone. Then another person. Then another. I finally stepped forward and asked, “Excuse me, are you calling numbers?”

The clerk looked at me with a blank expression. I explained, “The guard told us to take a number as we walked through the door, you have several signs posted that direct us to take numbers, but I haven’t heard you call any numbers…”

Despite the full waiting room, they hadn’t been calling numbers. But they decided to help me next anyway. I stepped forward, thoroughly prepared for the name change (after all, it was my second attempt to change my name at the Social Security Office; I’d had an additional wait I hadn’t planned on which gave me time to make sure I’d filled everything out correctly) and handed the clerk my paperwork. The paperwork to add “Ramsey” to my name, to make it my new and official last name.

Unfortunately, the clerk had a problem with it. “It’s too long,” she said.

“What?”

She showed me that her computer screen had three boxes: first name, middle name, and last name; with a limited number of characters per box. My proposed name was too long for the Social Security Administration computers! She told me I could have three names. I asked, “Wait a second–what about the famous people and movie stars who name their children 5-6 names? How do they do that, if my 34 letter name is too long?”

She said she didn’t know, but I had these options: my maiden name with the addition of “Ramsey,” “Andrea Merriman Ramsey” (without any part of my middle or maiden names),  ”Andrea Merriman-Ramsey” (but I’d have to sign that long last name every time I signed my name, not to mention it would give me a last name different than my children AND my husband!), Andrea L.C. Merriman Ramsey,” “Andrea L.C.M. Ramsey,” and a few other options. I stood at the counter, suddenly unprepared, facing a huge decision that was going to follow me every day of my life, and feeling pressure to hurry because I had to get to work and I knew other people in the room were waiting!

It was my own, personal Ellis Island.

But there wasn’t time to choose my name carefully because I had already carefully chosen my name and it had been rejected by the government, I had to get to work and people were waiting for me to make a decision and complete my business. I never thought to practice signing it. And at that point in my life, I was being called by pretty much anything and everything–no one was sure what I was going to go by. In fact, one Sunday the program at church one listed me by one name in one spot and a different name in a different spot!

Basically, it came down to the fact that I could use my maiden name (the name my church records used and the name of my parents, my ancestors and my heritage) or Merriman (the name of the man I wasn’t married to anymore.) In that moment, that spur of the moment, I chose my heritage. Merriman was gone.

Second marriage moment #6.

“I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then.” (Lewis Carroll, Alice In Wonderland)

You’d Think I’d Be Getting Used To It By Now

“It is best not to swap horses while crossing the river.” (ABRAHAM LINCOLN, reply to National Union League, June 9, 1864)

Given that wise counsel, I didn’t rush to change my name as soon as I remarried. Instead, I remarried and gave myself some time (several weeks!) to adjust to the big change of marrying again before making lots of other changes that typically accompany a life-altering event.

After a long engagement that felt like “living in limbo” in many ways, life was finally moving on–sometimes at the pace of warp speed–or at least that’s what it felt like, to me. Combining households, lives and everything else required official documents in many cases, and some of those changes required the use of my official name. So finally, as a matter of convenience, it was time for that too. Time to change my name.

To be honest, it was a little traumatic. I’ve chronicled some the thoughts and events leading up to that decision; I (still) wondered about its impact on my children; and it wasn’t something I was doing entirely (or even mostly) for me.  In the end, like facing anything uncomfortable or hard or difficult (although compared to that list, it wasn’t TERRIBLY uncomfortable, hard or difficult), it came down to the fact that sometimes you just have to do it: face it, do what must be done, and continue pressing forward. So I left work a little early one day and headed to the Social Security Administration.

I had all the necessary paperwork and required documents. I arrived to find a parking lot full of cars, walked in, the guard took one look at me and announced, “We’re closed.”

I thought he was kidding. It was 4 p.m. on a Thursday! You can’t believe what it had taken for me to get there, to that location, at that time, with everything I needed to make that huge change. It HAD to be a joke. “You’re joking, right?” I asked.

The guard told me he wasn’t kidding, they were closed. When I asked what time they had closed, he told me four o’clock. I said, “Well that’s what time it is now.” He replied, “Nope, it’s now 4:01 p.m. Come back another day!”

I could have screamed. (Not literally.) But I walked away, I confess, just a little bit frustrated. However, that moment, second marriage moment #5, was not lost on me. I’d been through remarriage counseling and had been remarried long enough to see that my first attempt to change my name was simply representative of the entire remarriage experience: it’s not simple or easy. It’s different than marrying the first time. It’s more complicated than you think it’s going to be. Why was I surprised that even changing my name went right along with the rest of the experience?

That’s not to say it’s not worth it. I believe that it is, it’s just not simple or easy all of the time. Pretty much like life. Especially the unexpected one. You’d think I’d be getting used to that by now…

“Issues are never simple. One thing I’m proud of is that very rarely will you hear me simplify the issues.” (Barack Obama)


Gaps

“I got gaps; you got gaps; we fill each other’s gaps.” (“Rocky”)

If #5 isn’t having a second marriage moment, I’m right there to have one for him. (Or vice versa.) I guess you could say we fill each other’s gaps in more ways than one! I believe the next second marriage moment came right on the heels of the previous one.

The Sunday #5 and I gave our talks in church, a leader of our congregation pulled us aside and asked us to teach the Marriage and Family Relations class they wanted to offer as part of the Sunday School program. Of course we said we’d do it, but as the man walked away I started to laugh.

“What?” asked #5. “What do you find so funny?”

“The class,” I replied.

“Why? It’s a great class. I’ve actually participated in one before,” he said.

I  couldn’t stop laughing as I explained, “I just find it hilarious that they’ve asked two previously DIVORCED people, who have been married 2 weeks, to teach the marriage class!”

That was #4. (As in, moments–not men!)

And I had to love you-know-who all the more for the fact that he responded, in all seriousness, to my humorous look at our new assignment and for the counsel he offered:  “I wouldn’t make an issue of that or a big deal about that to the class participants,” he advised.

Got it. Will do, #5. But I’m pretty sure everyone knows that about us, even if I don’t verbalize it.:)

“A word to the wise ain’t necessary, it’s the stupid ones who need the advice.” (Bill Cosby)

“Oh, How Nice!”

“The first of April is the day we remember what we are the other 364 days of the year.” (Mark Twain)

Actually, it was the first of March…but it showed me pretty much the same thing April was bound to.

Our first Sunday back at church after our honeymoon, our pastor asked #5 and I to address our congregation the following week. The Sunday of our assigned talks, I gave mine and sat down. I was followed by #5, who gave an excellent and heartfelt talk and ended it by expressing his love and gratitude for his wife; thanking her for her good example and for all she had taught him.

I sat there watching #5 conclude his talk, listening to him express his love and gratitude for his wife, and never thinking a thing of it–other than to think to myself in a very detached way (like I did the entire time I was single), “Oh, how nice. That man is married and that man loves his wife.”

He finished, turned to sit down and then suddenly it hit me:  Wait! He was talking about ME! I was HIS wife!

Married two weeks, and I’d already forgotten who my husband was! I’d found adjusting to being single after 20 years of marriage very difficult. I never imagined that the fulfillment of my dream–to find an amazing man, fall in love and remarry–would be an adjustment, too! But apparently it was going to be, since I experienced a total brain freeze about being married again just two weeks into it!

Second marriage moment #3.

“If it’s hard to remember, it’ll be difficult to forget.” (Arnold Schwarzenegger)

Thank goodness my forgetfulness only lasted a moment.:)

One Ambition

“Me only have one ambition, y’know. I only have one thing I really like to see happen. I like to see mankind live together – black, white, Chinese, everyone – that’s all.” (Bob Marley)

We survived the engagement portion of our relationship and married. But before I move on, I have to compliment #5 and his heroic attempts to keep us (and everything else) together during that time. Because at least for me, for us, being engaged in our 40s was very different than the last time. We came to the relationship with families, children, jobs, homes, church assignments, interests, hobbies and were both living very full lives before we even met, fell in love, and decided to be married. Our engagement wasn’t like the last time where we could drop just about everything to be with our intended. We had commitments and obligations; time with each other was limited.

Sometimes the only time each day we saw each other was 5 minutes in the workday morning, when #5 went out of his way to stop by my house on his way to work and before I left for mine, to say hello to me and to see the children before they left for school; or late at night, when #5 went out of his way to stop by for a few minutes after a show he was performing in, to say hello before he went home. Not a lot of time together. It was common for other couples marrying that I knew, as well. They both had homes, lives, and sometimes they even lived in separate cities–and continued to–even after they were married.

When we married, it came together so fast I didn’t think beyond the wedding day, honeymoon, the welfare of my children while I was out of town and my return to work afterward. So driving home from the honeymoon, as we entered Utah county, I realized real life was about to set in and I was struck with a thought I’d never had before: what is the plan? As in, where was #5 planning to live (and sleep) now that we were married? I knew it was the evening, we had to work the next day, and #5 didn’t have any personal belongings at my house. I suddenly realized I didn’t know what to expect!

I asked, “Where are you staying tonight?”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized my idiocy and saw the answer in his eyes. He looked at me like I was clueless (which I am and demonstrate on far too many occasions, exemplified, for example, by the events of 2009), shook his head like I was crazy (no comment!) and replied, “Of course your house–OUR house–we’re married!”

I said, “We both have homes, you don’t have anything at mine, we have to go to work tomorrow and I’d never thought that far ahead, so I wasn’t sure.”

He laughed and said, “Yes, it’s going to be a busy night. We’ll stop and see the kids and then we’ve got to run to my house and get some of my stuff and move it to the house so I can go to work tomorrow!”And that’s exactly what we did, although #5 was very patient to basically live out of a suitcase the first week or two of our marriage as he transitioned from living in his house, to mine.

That was the first “second marriage moment” for me. Only in a second marriage would you even wonder where your husband will live–your house, or his!

“What a happy and holy fashion it is that those who love one another should rest on the same pillow.” (Nathaniel Hawthorne)

Do You Think It Might Be The Wedding Ring?

“By persistently remaining single, a man converts himself into a permanent public temptation.” (Oscar Wilde)I’m thinking it might be an attractive combination. Single man, fit, hair long enough to make him look like a liberal college professor…and the women are beginning to like it! The other day #5 came home to tell me how nice women have been to him, especially lately, and that he thinks it might be the longer hair.

I asked, “Do you think it might be the wedding ring?”

He explained, “No, it was starting to happen a little before that, I think it must be the hair!”

Thank goodness he is married again, I guess, so he won’t be SUCH a temptation. He’s off the market, as am I. I have exited the single phase of life. For the second time. I can’t say I’m sorry to see it go. It was devastating to become single after 20 years of marriage and to re-enter the singles scene in my 40s, following an unexpected divorce and the trauma of a VERY unexpected life; the single life sure took some getting used to. In fact, I couldn’t imagine ever getting used to it. But I did.

In the beginning, I remember feeling so humiliated. I seriously thought everyone could tell, just by looking at me, what a loser (ie. single, a.k.a. divorced) woman I was. I was sure everyone thought I had terrible judgement, lacked intelligence, was impossible to live with or did any myriad of negative things that made someone not want to be with me and that caused my divorce.

Divorce was so contrary to anything I’d ever imagined for myself, I could hardly imagine, truly, ever being satisfied with myself and my status, but eventually I was. I wasn’t humiliated. I didn’t feel like a loser. I was just me. Andrea Merriman. Divorced single mother of four. I wasn’t embarrassed by the word “divorce” or to say it. It was my unexpected new “normal.”

Then I remarried.

And believe it or not, THAT has taken some getting used to. Again! For #5 and for me.

I’m calling them…second marriage moments. And the first one hit on the drive home from the honeymoon. Lets just say MOST of them have made me laugh:)

“Second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience.”