Living Happily Ever After

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I’m A Bag

My divorce became final 18 months ago today.

You know what it has taught me?

That, as I feared all along, I’m a bag. A tea bag, to be exact.

“A woman is like a tea bag–you never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water.” (Nancy Reagan)

There’s nothing like the challenge of an unexpected life and subsequent divorce to show you how strong you are. And in my humble opinion, as a single woman and a divorcee, I’d say the trick is to not lose your flavor as you steep in your unexpected situation.

It can be done.

I know it can, because I’m doing it. I’ve been up to my neck in hot water more times than I can count since 2009, yet here I am. Holding it together (for the most part) despite the temperature and depth of my surroundings…and I’m still singing (trying to, most days, anyway.)

“Remember the tea kettle – it is always up to its neck in hot water, yet it still sings!”

If I can do it, anyone can.

And now I think it’s time to get real about a few things, my experience with them, and what I’ve learned.

Hang on! It has been the usual, unexpected ride.

A Holiday Opportunity

“Problems can become opportunities when the right people come together.” (Robert South) 

Last week my youngest refused to participate in his preschool Christmas program. As it was our last opportunity to experience a preschool Christmas program, we were disappointed. But it’s amazing how problems can become opportunities, based on how you choose to look at them and react to them.

Just three days after that huge disappointment at our house, Bachelor #5 took us to a Christmas caroling party he attends each year with his friends. Every person there (but me and my children) were members of The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, past and present cast members of the L.D.S. church production, “Savior of The World,” or actors and singers from other shows/theaters. Singing with that group was quite an opportunity. To be honest, I’d never heard a caroling group sound so good. It was fun to join them in sharing the spirit of the season with others through music.

The biggest surprise was my youngest. Despite refusing to participate in his school musical program the week before, he merrily led the caroling group that night! Songbook tucked under his arm, he enthusiastically climbed each step, entered each home and sang his little heart out to each and every person. He absolutely loved the experience! I guess he just needed the right people to do it with—no holiday costumes or four-year-olds for him. Apparently he required professionals!

The next night, for our weekly family night, Bachelor #5 took us to a local senior center as he volunteered his time singing and playing Christmas music for the residents there. While the rest of us quietly watched the performance, my youngest unexpectedly joined #5 on stage. He walked to the front of the crowd without hesitation, sat in front of them, facing the audience, and began singing along! When the song ended, he wasn’t ready to quit. So he walked to the piano, sat on the bench beside #5 and sang a few songs with him into the microphone. WHERE did that urge come from?

After the program, he wished the seniors a “Merry Christmas” and hugged a few grandmas before we left. A completely different experience than the week before. Very unexpected. But just like life, a problem became an opportunity, with the right people in place to help him make it so.

This holiday I’m reminded of many good people who have helped our family. Thank you to everyone, past and present, who has been there for me and my little family amid some very unexpected difficulties. Each of you, our friends, helped us create a happy, new life of opportunity out of our challenges.

What a difference you made to us.

“We must not, in trying to think about how we can make a big difference, ignore the small daily differences we can make which, over time, add up to big differences that we often cannot foresee.” (Marian Wright Edelman)

That Is Why You Must Sing

“I think I could sing and shear a few sheep at the same time.” (Robert Plant)

Not too long ago my youngest was eating his breakfast cereal. He spilled some milk on his chair, announced what he had done, “Mommy! I spilled milk on my chair!” And without missing a beat, changed the words to a popular rap song and sang about it: “Milk on the chair! Milk on the chair! Lookin’ like a FOOL with your milk on the chair!”

It was so unexpected. It made me laugh. And it made me realize there’s no sense crying over spilled milk…when you can sing about it.

I couldn’t help but think it’s a great choice for the unexpected life as well.

In life, you can choose to laugh or cry, as I’ve written about before, but also to sing!

“Music-what a powerful instrument, what a mighty weapon!” (Maria von Trapp)

Add that to your arsenal for dealing with the unexpected life.

“You must understand the whole of life, not just one little part of it. That is why you must read, that is why you must look at the skies, that is why you must sing, and dance, and write poems, and suffer, and understand, for all that is life.” (Jiddu Krishnamurti)

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

“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.

Snow Day

I remember snow days in Colorado were always a celebration. Cozy, unexpected family time; days filled with sledding and hot cocoa; relaxing by the fire; snuggling on the couch.  But the snow day we had in the spring of 2009 was completely different.  It just felt cold and alone.

That snow day I saw what an outcast I had become. Even regarding snow!

Every single driveway of ALL of our neighbors had been plowed, except ours.  (We hadn’t shoveled our snow in years–a neighbor with a snow plow on his truck, or a neighbor with an ATV and snowplow, always took care of it for everyone.  Not in 2009.) To make matters worse, all of the plowed snow had been piled, four feet high, at the top of OUR driveway.

A subtle message.

Aristotle was right.  ”Misfortune shows those who are not really friends.”

My son and I shoveled and shoveled the snow in an attempt to clear the driveway.  There was so much snow, snow that was that heavy, wet, spring snow, and the snow was piled so deep, we hardly made a dent in the piles although we shoveled until we felt like we’d sprinted a 10k.

My daughter was going to be late to meet her friends due to the snow situation blocking the exit from our driveway so I finally called a friend and asked her to pick my daughter up so she wouldn’t miss the activity. When her husband drove up and saw the piles of snow deposited in front of our driveway by neighbors, he was appalled! And angry.  He went home, got his snowblower, drove it over to my neighborhood and home, and cleared the snow away. (His wife told me he glared at every neighbor he saw as he did it–he was THAT disgusted by the hateful actions of our neighbors.)

That day I wrote, “I’m an outcast. But like the old song says, ‘I get by with a little help from my friends.’ Thanks, Dan.”

And truly, with good friends you’re never REALLY an outcast. Aristotle forgot to mention that while misfortune shows those who aren’t your friends, it also shows those who really are!  At a time when I felt like the biggest loser on earth and a total failure–believe me, ending up with my life at 41 1/2 years old had NOT been my life plan–I had friends who showed me otherwise.  ”The making of friends who are real friends,” said Edward Everett Hale, “is the best token we have of a man’s success in life.” If that was the measure of success, I hadn’t failed at all!

I don’t know how I would have survived my nightmare without friends.  ”A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.”  (Anonymous) At a time when I felt like I had lost everything, including myself, they reminded me of who I was, what I had always been and showed me I was still me.  Me. Me PLUS the adventure of my unexpected life!

They helped me make the transition into a new chapter of my unexpected life. And although it was very hard to leave them in Colorado and begin a new life in Utah (so hard, in fact, I couldn’t say goodbye to anyone–I just drove away), how fortunate I am to have known such good people, to have been blessed with such incredible friends, that it WAS so hard to say goodbye!

My friends, old and new, help keep me going even to this day. Truly, I get by with a little help from my friends.  Don’t we all?