Living Happily Ever After
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Blog Articles

Don’t Leave Home Without Them

Date: May 10, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“She never quite leaves her children at home, even when she doesn’t take them along.” (Margaret Culken Banning)

When I got my job, I was a single mother. With an ex-husband in prison and my parents dead, it meant that when I wasn’t with my children, they were basically “orphans.” Thankfully, my company could not have been more understanding of that. I told them up front I couldn’t travel due to my situation and they hired me anyway, allowed me significant flexibility in my work schedule (they still do) and although many employees traveled on the company’s behalf every quarter, they never once asked me to, made me feel guilty because I didn’t travel or forced me to travel. (I work for an amazing company, by the way.)

After my marriage, they asked if I could travel to a quarterly event. My husband stayed home with the kids, I made the trip but as all mothers know, especially those who work full-time, you frequently have your children in mind. Nothing reminded me of that more than a recent business trip I made to Anaheim, Calif. for my company’s annual Global Convention.

I was gone five days. As I departed my husband commented, “Who would have imagined that, of the two of us, YOU would have the longest business trips!” True. I certainly never imagined I’d ever have a business trip much less longer ones than those of my husband.

And, wouldn’t you know, my business trip overlapped with a significant event—you guessed it—my daughter’s prom! (Talk about Proma Drama continued! If my daughter were writing this, I’m sure she’d clarify that she is also my “only” daughter. Yes, I’m a loser working mother! Out of town the weekend of my daughter’s Junior Prom!) I had no choice. But it didn’t stop my daughter from noting, “Do you realize you’ve been out of town for every single school dance I’ve had?” (Can you sense the working mother guilt oozing from me? Trust me, it is!)

But I did what I could. Despite everything I had going on at my event (including working from early morning to late at night each day with hardly time to eat) I did everything I could in advance of the big event: I helped her find the perfect dress, I paid for it, I arranged for jewelry to match her dress, I asked my sister-in-law to do my daughter’s hair (turns out, it was quite a party with my daughter and her cousin going to prom the same night resulting in an assembly line of hair and make-up artistry performed by nieces and my sister-in-law, a fun memory for all; everyone but me, that is, as I was out of town!)

I even remembered to ask my son for pictures of my daughter and her date, to text them to me so I could experience as much of the event as possible. So there I sat in my hotel room after midnight, knowing I had to wake up in five short hours, looking at pictures of my daughter heading to her prom. And I realized, again, and not for the first time, that truly, you never do quite leave your children at home, even when you don’t take them with you.

Meanwhile, it wasn’t prom, but I was having a few adventures of my own.

“My travels led me to where I am today. Sometimes these steps have felt painful, difficult, but led me to greater happiness and opportunities.” (Diana Ross)

Of Life, Cereal And…Purple Milk

Date: August 2, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The team has come along slow but fast.” (Casey Stengel)

In 2009, circumstances dictated I form a new team: me and my four children, a new family unit headed by a single mother. We  nicknamed ourselves “The Five Musketeers.” Between us, we had enough for a basketball team–no substitutes.

Two years later, a lot has happened on and off the court of our unexpected life. We have new teammates, as well as many other unexpected blessings and adventures.

The other morning, my middle son was pouring himself some “Life” breakfast cereal. (Right now, it’s one of our favorites. We go through boxes of the stuff. As chief grocery shopper for our household, I find my mission impossible, too often, is trying to find cereal the kids love and want to eat at a price I can afford!) As my son poured the last of the box into his bowl he commented, “Life sure goes fast!”

My husband and I looked at each other and laughed. At the wisdom of eleven-year-olds. Although I’m pretty sure my son wasn’t trying to wax philosophical, he ended up doing it anyway. Because as my oldest prepares to “move out” and into his college dorm, at the same time, my youngest is entering kindergarten; both momentous occasions taking place in just three weeks. But I’m not laughing so hard anymore. Because I’m thinking breakfast cereal isn’t the only thing that doesn’t last.

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look round once in a while, you could miss it.” (“Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”)

Yes, LIFE sure goes fast! Which makes me even more grateful for some wonderful advice my Nana gave me when she was in her 90s and I was a busy mother of a toddler and a baby. We were visiting in her home, she watched me jump up and down to help my children with various things as we chatted, and she sighed and said, “Treasure these moments. Treasure this time with your children. Of all the days you’ll live, these are your best days–the days you’re surrounded by those you love, the days you get to live with your children in your home. Out of all that I’ve lived and experienced, it’s those days that I treasure the most.”

My Nana grew up lighting candles to see, carrying hot bricks to place at the foot of her bed to keep her feet warm in the winter. As a girl, she traveled by horse and buggy, and later worked as a telephone operator (the kind you talked to to request a connection to a certain person), and saw the advent of automobiles, airplanes, dishwashers, washing machines, microwaves, television, computers and a man on the moon. She experienced some amazing things over the course of her life, yet out of all of it, she most treasured her time with her children when they were young.

How grateful I am that my Nana shared that counsel with me and that I chose to listen to it. Because life sure goes fast, cereal or otherwise!

“I won’t eat any cereal that doesn’t turn the milk purple.” (Bill Watterson) Not such a bad idea!

Life Is Like A Soap Opera (Sometimes)

Date: June 20, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“You’ve got to realize that any lady on a soap is devoting her life to it, 24/7.” (Joan Van Ark)

I spent the majority of my years living a life of quiet obscurity: not a lot of trauma, drama or upheaval. In fact, truth be told, I probably prided myself on my normalcy and the lack of drama in my existence. However in 2009, when my world ended suddenly and publicly, that changed. I had trauma, drama, AND upheaval, coupled with grief, loss and a host of other hard things. But I got through it. And I looked forward to the day things would settle down and I wouldn’t feel like I was living a soap opera.

Instead, I found that life as a single mother, the “singles scene,” an engagement, blending children from two different families, remarriage and other experiences (and people) seemed to continue the…drama. One day, while chatting with my sister about the latest development (aka. learning experience), she laughed. I asked her what was so funny.

She replied, “Just that your life is SUCH a soap opera–and how horrified by it you are! Don’t worry about it!”

That’s life, isn’t it? Occasionally, life can feel like a soap opera. The important thing is doing the best with what you’ve got, doing what you believe is best for you and doing what you know to be right. Don’t get hung up on anything else–the drama, the antagonists or the latest challenging scene.

The soap opera called life.

But…”If you have to be in a soap opera try not to get the worst role.” (Judy Garland)

Me Too!

Date: April 7, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“To feel much for others and little for ourselves; to restrain our selfishness and exercise our benevolent affections, constitute the perfection of human nature.” (Adam Smith)

Before we get to the details of the big day, I have to pause and commend someone for something: #5. For his patience, restraint and consideration of my privacy and this blog.

I remember our date after I began blogging, when I was telling him all about it as we drove down the road. Deciding to tell my story was a momentous decision for me, and for my children, and I was letting him in on the details. One of his first questions was, “Tell me something, would it ruin your blog if you weren’t writing as a single mother?” That was in the days before I knew he was interested in me, and long before I was romantically interested in him, so I didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about or why he would even ask that!

As our relationship progressed he continued to stay very anonymous, for his sake, and mine, although he made jokes about getting a t-shirt made that said, “#5″ and a myriad of other #5-related slogans. He good-naturedly made lots of jokes about catchy slogans he could put on clothing for himself, thanks to my blog. And he was very patient about every private detail of our courtship being posted to a blog read by people he didn’t know. He was a VERY good sport about the bachelor section, too, despite the fact it was very educational for him–he’d never had any idea I was as involved in the singles scene as I had been. (Although that was when he quit reading this blog, never to return again!)

When we got engaged, and he wanted to tell everyone in his social network, he was restrained enough to share just the basic information: that he was getting married, to a woman named Andrea from Denver–and that’s it. When he organized his list of family on Facebook, he was good enough to leave me off.

But apparently, late that evening, the night before our appointed wedding day, he lost it. He abandoned all restraint. My sister got on Facebook and unexpectedly, found a post that entertained us. #5 had been on Facebook and logged a status update:

“I’m gettin’ married in the mornin’. Yeah!”

And it was as true for him as it had been in “My Fair Lady.” (You have to love his taste for the theatrical!)

Although I rarely get on Facebook, and I comment even less, that night I couldn’t resist. I was getting married in the morning too, so I guess I was feeling a bit reckless as well. I commented, “Me too!” And my sister “liked” it:)

Some last minute advice for #5 before it’s too late: “If you’re going to do something tonight that you’ll be sorry for tomorrow morning, sleep late.” (Henny Youngman)

My Own “Hall of Fame”

Date: February 11, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m not proud. I’m willing to go in on my hands and knees if I have to.” ( Luke Appling, asked whether he resented entering the Hall of Fame on the second ballot)

Yep, that’s pretty much how my unexpected life is for me. Not proud, willing to do what must be done. It has provided some memorable, head shaking moments for me; not head shaking in a bad way, more like a “I NEVER expected to do THIS or have this be my life” sort of way!

“Hall of Fame” moments of The Unexpected Life (in no particular order):

1. Not being able to give my children even $1 for new school clothes. Last year, we made due with ALL of the old. (Quite an unexpected change from every previous year’s shopping trips to Nordstrom or Abercrombie! I never imagined not being able to purchase ANY school clothes for my children prior to entering my unexpected life.) But this is the good part: My kids have learned to shop thrift stores first when they need something and have scored some deals—like the time my daughter found a brand new J. Crew blouse with the tags still attached…for $6!

2. Encouraging my middle son to wear shoes with holes. I never imagined I’d do it, or have to do it, but it’s an attempt to make them last longer and to give us extra time to save up money for a new pair. I like to think of them as “stylishly tattered” (like the hole-y jeans everyone wears) and frankly, we’re just thankful he has SHOES! Period. March 18, 2009, we weren’t so sure we’d even have shoes, so we’re thankful for what we’ve got. Besides, someday when he’s grown and a father himself and needs a good story for his children, he’ll be able to tell them how he had to wear shoes with holes in the winter when he was in 5th grade.

3. Driving a used car, in the middle of winter, with a broken window. As mentioned in a previous blog, driving in the freezing winter air, heater blasting, buried under blankets in an attempt to stay warm is definitely a memory I never expected to make! What a sight I must have been! In my 40s, driving a car without a window, in the winter. Welcome to my unexpected life! (Endless thanks to a good neighbor who fixed the broken window for us, and every time I drive I’m so grateful for all of the windows in the car.)

4. Driving my car’s gas tank past empty, well beyond the moment the “empty” light turns on, EVERY time it runs low. I’m just trying to go as long as I can between payments to the pump. (In my old life, my former husband didn’t like me to let the gas gauge get below half-full. But things are very different for the Merrimans now!)

5. Living with a giant pot under my kitchen sink for 4 months, emptying the pot 3-4 times a day (and sometimes cleaning up a flood when my kids ran water in the sink and forgot to check the water level accumulating in the pot underneath) when I got a leak, tried to fix it, probably made it worse, had my Eagle Scout son try to fix it, he couldn’t, and we couldn’t afford a plumber so we lived with a pot under the sink while we tried to save up money for a plumber. However, when you’re short every month, savings never really materializes.  We’ll never forget our friend who flew over from Denver, Colorado, and fixed our leak for us one Saturday. His service to our family will NEVER be forgotten!

6. Handwashing dishes. Our dishwasher broke several months ago, so we hand-washed our dishes for financial reasons–it was just impossible for me to justify going into debt for the purchase of a new dishwasher (even the “cheap” ones are expensive in my world!) when we had plenty of dish soap, dish rags and hands that could do the job just as well for a lot less money. Besides, I didn’t think I could qualify for credit to purchase a new one, anyway! (And I wasn’t up for an additional embarrassing financial situation, I’ve had a few of those already in my unexpected life.)  And then just last week, a new dishwasher was purchased, delivered and installed for me, courtesy of #5. Thanks, Mr. Awesome! (I don’t think any of my children will ever complain again about having to unload a dishwasher! We’re just so thankful to have one and to not have to hand wash dishes anymore.)

6. Not eating out but making a memorable attempt at breaking that status at Red Robin. I decided to splurge on a family meal “out” during the holidays because we hadn’t all gone out to eat together since our unexpected life began almost two years ago. I calculated that we could afford Red Robin if we ordered 3 of their $5 burgers and split them. We drove to Red Robin, sat down, picked up our menus, and I couldn’t find those $5 burgers anywhere on the menu. The waitress informed me they’d been removed from the menu one week earlier and weren’t available anymore, “But our burgers are only $8 each, that’s still a good deal and they’re really delicious!” There was only one thing I could say to that:  ”NOT for a single mother with 4 kids. Thanks, anyway.” And we got up and left! We had to. There’s a big difference between $15 and $24 in my unexpected life. As we were walking out without ordering or eating anything, my youngest started throwing a temper tantrum and had to be carried out as he screamed. I’m sure we appeared to be the trashiest customers to grace Red Robin that day. I NEVER imagined I’d choose to exit a restaurant because I was unwilling to go into debt for a burger, but that’s what I did. (I’m laughing about it now, I hope Red Robin can, someday, too!)

7. Doing anything for free groceries. (I never imagined the lengths I’d go to to save money in my unexpected life.) My daughter had her wisdom teeth removed, three prescriptions were needed, I took them to Rite Aid to be filled, drove away and then found a coupon for Smith’s grocery store’s pharmacy that offered $25 in free groceries for each new prescription filled, good for up to 3 prescriptions. That was $75 of free groceries–and all it cost was the humiliation of returning to the original pharmacy and asking for my prescriptions back! I hurried back to Rite Aid and asked for the written prescriptions back before they were filled. At some point in my life I might have been embarrassed to do something like that, but after living through REALLY humiliating experiences (like being married to a man who perpetrated a Ponzi scheme without my knowledge, having the whole thing unfold in national media, having my divorce reported in the media, having my neighbors offer commentary on my life and living situation to the media, and a few other things) I’m not easily embarrassed anymore.  And the next time when we needed food, and my entire purchase at Smith’s was free, I wasn’t embarrassed at all, I was grateful! Grateful I hadn’t been too proud to save some money.

8. Attempting to save money and make the old tire on my car last longer before I bought a new one, and ending up, instead, with a flat tire in the desert in July and had to pay a tow truck $100 to help us when we couldn’t get the flat tire off to put the spare tire on! Yes, that one didn’t turn out QUITE like I expected it to. Worst of all, it didn’t save me any money! Lesson learned. ”Fame and riches are fleeting. Stupidity is eternal.” (Don Williams, Jr.)

10. Returning to work full-time and putting one of my children in daycare. I know many people do it, and I’m used to it now–it’s our life–but it was a momentous (not in a good way) experience for me.

11. Taking my children to two new movies, in an actual theater, this past holiday season. (Our thanks and gratitude to a very generous Denver man who sent us a gift card to Cinemark! We LOVED it!) It was the first time we’d been able to go to a current movie, as a family, in our unexpected life.

12. Returning my violin to its original owner–the same week my former possessions went to new ones.

13. Taking my kids out to eat at a restaurant for only the 3rd time in almost two years, my treat, thanks to the violin money. And although I faced quit an inner debate about doing something “frivolous” like that when there are talents to be developed, when my 17-year-old furnace broke the very next week and all of the violin money had to go to paying for a replacement furnace, I was glad we’d done something fun, like dinner! Note to self: need new plan for talent development. (Still awaiting inspiration on that one!)

There you have it. The Unexpected Life “Hall of Fame.

Interestingly, ”Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember.” (Seneca)

I mean that.

I Didn’t Sell My Soul

Date: February 10, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’d have a whole lot more money if I lied, but I wouldn’t enjoy spending it.” (Martina Navratilova)

I know what you mean, Martina. But not only would I not have enjoyed spending it, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself either.

“One of my proudest moments is I didn’t sell my soul for the sake of popularity.” (George W. Bush) Or things. Or money.

I’ll always be glad it’s the way I’ve chosen to live. But it does mean shortage of money is a reality in my unexpected life. Not just that things are tight, but that like many people, I assume, especially single mothers or people in the throes of an unexpected life and in an economic downturn, I’m short. Every month. Some might say “My problem lies in reconciling my gross habits with my net income” (Errol Flynn) but in my case, it’s more a result of starting over in my 40s (not just at zero, but in the hole thanks to the financial morass created by my former spouse), with four children and no alimony or child support, on the heels of complete and total financial devastation!

So I’m always looking to economize. This quest has led to a few special memories, experiences I’ve listed in the Unexpected Life “Hall of Fame” of Andrea Merriman. Things I NEVER imagined I’d do, or that would be the reality of my life.

There’s quite a bit  I never expected.

Slogans For The Unexpected Life

Date: December 26, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

During the holidays, #5 and I played a game with some of our children. In one round, we had to name campaign slogans. As I listened to the slogans, I was struck by what a great motto for The Unexpected Life each campaign could be.

Be All That You Can Be.

Just Do It.

Thrive.

You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby. (Shared by #5.)

As soon as he said that, it got me thinking about my life and my little family. I was overwhelmed and amazed by how far we’ve come in one year. Just since last Christmas. What a difference 365 days makes!

Last Christmas, 2009, was the first Christmas of our unexpected life. I was trying so hard to heal, to help my children make it through their unexpected challenge, trying to adjust to working full-time, and to hold on physically, emotionally, financially and in every other way, for all of us, back then. So I put on a brave face, tried to keep a few traditions and took my children to see Santa Claus one Saturday morning.

Santa chatted with each of my children but caught me completely off-guard when he had me sit by him, looked me in the eye, and asked, “What do you want for Christmas, Mom?”

I panicked. Did he know who I was? Did he know I was single? Did he know what a loser I had turned out to be, starting over in life, in every possible way, at 42? It had been years since Santa had asked me something like that! I wasn’t prepared with an answer. But for some reason, maybe because I felt so alone and literally was alone for the first time in my life, I took his query seriously. My mind raced with thoughts of everything I needed—courage; confidence; optimism; hope; anonymity; a life; emotional comfort; laughter; bravery; endurance; happiness; real smiles; joy, peace; and of course, money (those were the days when I couldn’t seem to get a break, I lived in shock and fallout from the trauma 24/7)—and because I’d been trained to only ask Santa Claus for one thing, without censoring my response I replied, “Peace. I would love to have peace.”

I don’t think Santa was expecting that. Yet he must have sensed the desperation I felt inside to share something like that with a total stranger, though the stranger be Santa’s helper, because he looked me in the eye, gave me a compassionate, soft smile, took my hand in his large, white gloved hand, and calmly and quietly told me to hold on, peace would come. He sat there for just a second, looking into my eyes, smiling and then patted my knee, offered me a See’s Candy lollipop and sent me on my way.

I walked away from my encounter with S. Claus uplifted. It was another one of those “Only in Utah” moments for me. (As in, only in Utah…would a shopping mall Santa Claus take time for you, despite a long line of believers and children, to give you a spiritual message!) I left his little village filled with hope, not just for the holiday but for my life. I believed Santa was right; someday it, peace, would come to me again. I was counting on that. I just had to hold on.

But that Christmas Eve, when the house was dark and quiet and I was up all alone late at night making my few small Christmas preparations for my children, the reality of my unexpected life hit me. Again. In that moment I was a little overwhelmed by my continued struggle to embrace a new life that was mine, but that I didn’t believe I had done anything to deserve and I still wasn’t sure I wanted! I’d do a little Christmas, then go up to my room, alone, and cry for a few minutes. Then I’d pull myself together, go down by the Christmas tree, do a little more Christmas, then go up to my room, alone, and cry. It was the pattern of a newly divorced, single mother, getting through her first Christmas. Alone.

After the holidays, #5 checked in with me to see how my “first Christmas” went. I can’t believe I told him the truth—that it was good overall, but that I’d had some unexpected sad moments too. He empathized, gave me some words of encouragement, asked me out for another date and the rest is…recorded in this blog.

However, Christmas 2010 was a completely different scene.

I took my kids to see Santa again, but this year he didn’t even ask me what I wanted. Maybe he could tell I have every important thing I need, especially peace. And Christmas Eve, although the house was dark and quiet, I wasn’t alone. I had #5 helping me with Christmas preparations. On Christmas Day, we had all eight of our children together. As I sat by #5, watching all of the kids talk, laugh, joke and enjoy being together, I felt such contentment and joy. It felt like family. It is our family. Everything is right in my world again. Different than what I had expected, as usual, but right.

I couldn’t help but think that had I only known last year what was in store for me this year, it would have been a heck of a lot easier to get through last year! Had I only known last year, what this year would be like, I wouldn’t have felt alone or felt sad at all. But that is just one more beauty and character-building aspect of life: the not knowing; and choosing to carry on anyway.

Striving to be all that you can be.

Just doing it.

Learning to thrive in whatever situation you find yourself in.

And acknowledging, occasionally, just how far you’ve come.

What you do with your unexpected life is your slogan.

“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan ‘press on’ has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.” (Calvin Coolidge)

Focus

Date: December 8, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?” (Erma Bombeck)

Shortly after I began my unexpected life, a friend, who had been a single mother herself, emailed and gave me some advice about that aspect of my new life. She told me when I came home from work, to fight the urge to clean the house, do the laundry and other household tasks that would take my attention away from my children and instead, focus on my kids.

I hope that’s what I would have done anyway, but her advice helped me keep my priorities where they needed to be, on my children—and helping them adjust and heal—rather than spending all of my time folding clean clothes or cleaning the house (which would have been messy by the time I got home from work anyway.)

I’m so thankful she shared her perspective with me, and that I had the good sense to listen to her counsel. Of course, I’m not advocating no one ever clean their house again, I’m just saying that I think it has been a blessing to my sanity and a good thing for my kids that as a single, working mother, I gave myself permission to let some of the housework go so I didn’t miss the important moments with my children—they’re doing well, and despite the fact they’re growing up in a less than spotless home, they are healing, happy and most importantly, smiling!

I chose to follow my friend’s good  advice, and I’m so glad I did. ”You have a lifetime to work, but children are only young once.”  (Polish Proverb)

Random Strangers

Date: October 10, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we’ll never know.” (Jack Handy)

Ok. I’m going to sound old here, but “back in the day” (one year ago) when I was operating in absolute shock mode, simply trying to get through each day, one at a time, as I adjusted to the unexpected life that was mine, and while I was waiting and worrying about a miracle for my son, I got a small one for myself.

Unexpectedly.

A local grocery store, Macy’s, was having a case lot sale. I went and stocked up on some food items for my little family at a bargain price. It was Saturday night, I was newly divorced and couldn’t help but think what a loser I was to have a shopping trip as my only plan, the big thrill, for the evening. As I walked into the store, I was sure every other customer knew I was single, knew my shame (why I was single), and was staring at me.

When I finished, as I walked out the door pushing my grocery cart piled high with cases of canned food, a man driving by in his car called out a comment to me, ridiculing me for my purchases. I couldn’t believe it! In all the years I had grocery shopped in Denver, no one had ever commented on my purchases or made fun of me for the amount of items in my cart. It was only after I had moved to Utah, the land of family and food storage, that I was ridiculed.

I walked to my car feeling so dumb.

I was embarrassed.

And believe it or not, my emotional state hung in such a delicate balance one year ago, that my feelings were actually hurt by that stupid comment from a thoughtless stranger.

I wanted to cry out, “I’m just a single mother trying to feed her children!”

Or, “Believe me, buddy, I already know what a loser I am–I don’t need your help and encouragement!”

But I tried not to think about it as I fought back tears, opened the trunk of my car and began to unload my cart in the parking lot. I was grateful it was dark so no one would see me, the biggest loser among all women, married or single, crying like an idiot in the dark while she unloaded her shopping cart.

I felt more alone than anyone else in the parking lot.

I wondered how I was going to get through the rest of the weekend, the next week and the rest of my life feeling as I felt. Instead of feeling rejuvenated by the weekend and able to face the coming week, I was crushed.

And then, out of the darkness, and without a word, a man was standing beside me, helping me unload my cart. He didn’t really say anything while he unloaded everything into my car, but as he handed me the last case, he paused for just an instant and smiled at me. It was dark, but I was struck by his beautiful, clear light eyes as he looked into mine and smiled. And then he got into his old, dark-colored SUV parked next to mine, that I hadn’t noticed until that moment, and drove away.

I stood there. I watched him drive away, my burden so much lighter from our encounter. I marveled at such kindness from a stranger, especially on the heels of exactly the opposite experience from another one.

He was probably just some nice man, a former Boy Scout, doing what he does for everyone, for me, that night. But to me, it was as if he was heaven sent, that moment, that night. He will never know what his small act of kindness meant to someone like me. In the parking lot of Macy’s grocery store.

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” (Tennessee Williams)

Especially while living an unexpected life.

Don’t we all?

He’s Not My Boyfriend!

Date: June 15, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

We all learned a lot from Bachelor #1. Including what to call the men I dated.

I don’t know why I have such an aversion to the word “boyfriend” but I do, and always have. It must be the way I was raised. My parents drilled this into my head: Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. Don’t tie yourself down. Don’t have a boyfriend. NEVER tie yourself to just one guy–until you are engaged!

So, I never did. I never had what I called a boyfriend. In fact, when I got engaged to my former spouse and went to tell my roommates I was getting married, they looked at me in shock and asked, “WHO are you engaged to?” I was surprised they didn’t know, so I asked them to guess. I was even more surprised when “Shawn Merriman” was the 5th name they guessed! I guess I got the “no boyfriend” thing my parents taught me down really, really well (in the 80s.)

I went from not having a boyfriend, not having a fiance (couldn’t say that word, either, for some reason!) to having a husband. Fortunately, I was able to say that word. For 20 years!

And then I became single again, unexpectedly, in 2009. I re-entered the dating scene. And my kids started saying things like, “So, when are you going to see your BOYFRIEND again?”

It struck a nerve. I just couldn’t call Bachelor #1 my boyfriend. That title made me cringe! He wasn’t my boyfriend.

I told my son, “Don’t call him that. I don’t have a boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend.”

And before I could explain why I was so weird about that, my son said, “Oh, yah, that’s right. He’s not a boy. He’s a man. Got it, Mom, so when are you going to see your MANFRIEND again?”

I don’t know if that’s what everyone else’s teenagers call the men they date, but it was so unexpected, we all laughed. Hard. And you know what? The title stuck.

Every single man I’ve gone out with has been referenced, by my children, as my “manfriend.” Wouldn’t my parents be proud to know that although they’re gone, I’m still following their advice? No boyfriends for this single mother. Still.

Boyfriends. Who needs them? “I know what you want. And I know what you need. But I’m gonna [mess] it up, yeah, cause I’m an idiot. And I’m your boyfriend.” (Jimmy Fallon)

My advice to all the single ladies out there? Follow the counsel my parents gave me. Don’t complicate your life with boyfriends. Instead, try MANFRIENDS!

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