Living Happily Ever After
test123

Blog Articles

Unfamous

Date: April 16, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I don’t mind a little bit of anonymity; it helps on the subway.” (Hugh Jackman)

You know things are settling down in your unexpected life when you become anonymous again, at least in some circles. It happened to me last week.

In August 2011 a researcher for a television show contacted me via Facebook about appearing on her show. She could not have been nicer, more enthusiastic and wrote a great pitch. Unfortunately, I never got her message. And I found all of this out this week, when I finally saw her message. Eight months later.

“That’s so strange I never got this,” I thought. “Oh well, too late.” And although I was sure the email address probably wast even valid anymore, I decided to at least respond, let her know I never received her message, and apologize—I was sure she had moved on to other things. I knew I wouldn’t hear back, but at least I’d (finally) been responsive to the communication. I didn’t think I’d hear back, that is, until I did.

Not only was the address still valid, she was still interested in speaking with me after all of those months had passed! I hadn’t seen her show, so she sent me a link to check out. I took a moment to review it during a break at work when I heard a voice behind me say, “I didn’t know you watch that show! I LOVE that show! It’s my favorite show, I never miss it!” And I turned around to see one of my co-workers standing there.

I confessed to her I actually didn’t watch the show, I was just reviewing it to see what it was all about as part of my due diligence. She looked at me with a  very puzzled expression on her face. “I don’t understand why that show would want YOU on it—it’s a show about people who’ve been affected by crime, people who find out their spouse has been leading a double life and situations like that!”

What do you do when you’ve become virtually anonymous again? Here’s what I did: I smiled, nodded my agreement…and let it be. It’s three years into my unexpected life and I’m “unfamous” again. Pretty normal for me.

“The fact that my 15 minutes of fame has extended a little longer than 15 minutes is somewhat surprising to me and completely baffling to my wife.” (Barack Obama)

“I Love You”

Date: May 31, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Where lipstick is concerned, the important thing is not color, but to accept God’s final word on where your lips end.” (Jerry Seinfeld)

I walked into my bathroom the other day and found a message from #5:  ”I Love You.” Written with Mac lip liner pencil on the mirror. (He said he couldn’t find my lipstick!) It was totally unexpected and it delighted me. Other than the boy I had a crush on when I was a teenager who “soaped” the windows in my bedroom and bathroom with fun messages when I turned 16 and could finally date him, I can’t recall anyone ever doing anything like that for me before.

Second marriage moment #13; followed closely by #13a and #13b.

Shortly after I found the love message, my five year old wandered into the bathroom. ”What’s that?” he asked.

“It says, ‘I Love You,’ and it’s from daddy to me,” I replied.

“How did he get it on there?” he asked.

I explained that it was written with lipstick, wasn’t that fun? He agreed, and got a big grin on his face. In the aftermath of the trauma we lived through two years ago, I confess, I’m always looking for signs that my children are healing, doing well, are happy and feeling secure in their young lives once again. Right about the time I started to think he must be feeling safe and secure knowing his new daddy love his mommy, he instead said, “Cool! I didn’t know we could write on mirrors!” (#13a)

I instantly realized my mistake and clarified that only daddies and mommies can write love notes to each other on mirrors. He was disappointed, but headed out to play while I breathed a huge sigh of relief that I had narrowly avoided who-knows-WHAT disaster should my youngest decide to add writing with lipstick to his creative arsenal.

But in a remarriage, if it’s not one thing, it’s another! For example, you can’t just quietly and privately enjoy a romantic message from your new husband. Especially if you have 8 children.

The next time I walked into the bathroom and felt my heart give a little leap at the sight, again, of the “I Love You” from #5, I saw a new message had been added below the original. “Ahhh, gee thanks!” Written by someone else. (Based on the handwriting, I think it was my 18-year-old.)

Second marriage moment #13b? The delight of having young adult children offer their take, and respond to, love notes from your husband!

“I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you.” (Ben Folds)

Or write…on the bathroom mirror!

My Children’s News Story

Date: October 30, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I realized, last night, why I had kids.

“I brought children into this dark world because it needed the light that only a child can bring.” (Liz Armbruster)

Of course that isn’t the only reason, but last night’s news story featuring my teens showed me that isn’t a bad one! They sat and talked with Cheryl Preheim, of the NBC affiliate Channel 9 in Denver, CO, and shared their experiences and things they’ve learned as a result of their unexpected life–and I couldn’t be more grateful for what they’ve gleaned.

Click here to see their news story.

“From out of the mouth of babes.” They’re not babies anymore, but I’m so glad they’re mine.

And although I’m not going to be here, forever, sharing the life lessons I’ve learned about living, what is truly important, and what you do with the unexpected things that happen…thank goodness they might be.

“Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see.” (Neil Postman, The Disappearance of Childhood(introduction), 1982)

A Message

Date: August 7, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Did you ever walk into a room and forget why you walked in? I think that’s how dogs spend their lives” (Sue Murphy)

That’s how I’ve spent quite a few moments of my life.

I forget about things sometimes. Sometimes, even important things. That impulsive act of attempting to contact my birth mother, believe it or not, was no different.

Impulsively, I had done something huge; I sent a message to my birth mother and then…I pretty much forgot about it. (Either that, or such is the life of a single mother, the sole parent and support of four children, working full-time, busy, and tending to homework, housework, never-ending laundry, keeping track of the bills, and everything else. It’s easy to forget things.)

And then just as I’d forgotten about what I’d done a few weeks earlier, I got an unexpected message from Facebook:

“Oh my gosh! Are you who I think you are?”

My birth mother.

I NEVER expected that.

The message couldn’t have been more friendly, loving, and willing to share information. My birth mother even gave me her phone number and encouraged me to call. She was absolutely friendly and nice and welcoming!

I was stunned.

It was completely unexpected.

I had been prepared so well my entire life for rejection that I was shocked at not being rejected!

WHAT Have I Just Done?

Date: August 6, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“A true history of human events would show that a far larger proportion of our acts are the result of sudden impulse and accident than of that reason of which we so much boast.” (Peter Cooper)

Without thinking, impulsively, I wrote a message.

Something like, “So sorry to bother you, and I hope I don’t give you a heart attack, but I’m wondering if you would be willing to share some medical information with an old friend from 1967?” (I tried to make it vague enough that if a spouse or children or anyone else who didn’t know about the situation found it, my birth mother’s cover would not be blown. I hoped she would be able to explain it away as a mistaken message from a stranger or an old friend from college.)

Before I thought about what I was doing, I had hit the “send button.”

“A first impulse was never a crime.” (Pierre Corneille)

Right?

I looked at the screen, thought, “What have I just done?” and called my sister.

“You WILL NOT believe what I have just done. And if you didn’t think I was crazy before, now you certainly will,” I told her.

Can you imagine being my sister?

She’s had more than her fair share of phone calls and conversations with completely unexpected news from me this past year . And yet she is gracious enough to continue to answer her phone! She couldn’t believe it. Then she called me each morning the next five days to see if I’d heard anything back regarding the message I sent.

I never did.

My sister asked if my feelings were hurt. I said no. I figured the woman had built a life and possibly hadn’t told anyone about me and couldn’t risk ruining a lifetime. I didn’t blame her. Besides, the thought to contact her had come to me so suddenly, and I’d acted on it so quickly, I hadn’t gotten emotionally vested in the outcome.

Tina Yothers said, “I’m pretty bulletproof as far as being hurt.” And thanks to the many unexpected events of 2009, so was I.

I had simply felt I had to try. It hadn’t worked out.

I didn’t know why I’d had the idea, but I had done all I could do. The no response was my answer.

I carried on.