Living Happily Ever After
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The Speech Continued: ‘A’ is for Accept

Date: March 8, 2014  Author: Andrea Merriman

A: Accept

Life isn’t fair. Just accept it, along with your terrible challenge.

Thankfully, probably none of us get what we truly deserve–for good or bad:)

Don’t look back. That won’t change anything.

Don’t indulge in “If Only.” A very wise man, Thomas S. Monson, once said something like, “If Only are the two most useless words in the English language. Don’t say them.”

Don’t let yourself indulge in that completely unproductive wishing that will only make you feel worse. Focus on what you CAN do, what you CAN control, what you CAN fix or change.

And do it.

No Sorrow That Cannot Heal

Date: December 12, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

Step 4: Refrain from speaking useless words and never give in to what they spawn—anger, your’s or anyone else’s!

Thomas S. Monson once said the two most useless words in the English language are “if only.” He’s right, I’m sure, but I would also add two more: “why me?”

Too many people experience adversity—illness, financial reverse, betrayal, a divorce, an unexpected death, even a natural disaster—from which they never recover, usually the result of focusing on “why me” and “if only,” which leads to anger and a downward spiral that goes on to ruin not only their lives, but the lives of others. I was determined NOT to let that same thing happen to me when my world fell apart!

I’d had a friend whose husband betrayed her and asked for a divorce, and instead of carrying on she indulged in the four most useless words, which fed her anger (which she also indulged) to the point that she never recovered. She has been miserable for 11 years now and counting, still angry over what her former husband did, and she has completely ruined not just her life but the lives of her children. Meanwhile, her husband had remarried, had more children, is very happy and has a good relationship with his older children as well.

On another occasion, I met a 50-year-old woman without a job, a place to live, a winter coat or even shoes (other than sandals) in the snowy climate of Colorado. As I drove her to purchase a coat and some winter shoes, I couldn’t help but ask how she had arrived at such desperate circumstances. She said her dad had died unexpectedly when she was a teenager and that the experience had been very difficult for her because she had really loved her dad! She continued, “Why me? If only that hadn’t happened…” In that moment I realized I had been blessed with the same life experience she had, at close to the same age. I believe the difference was in what we had each allowed ourselves to indulge in.

It is never productive and actually, can be very destructive in my experience, if you let yourself indulge in, and wallow in, feelings of anger, resentment and hatred. Hatred, anger and resentment are like acid—they only destroy the vessel in which they are stored. And it IS possible to do that when instead of indulging in those feelings, you choose to allow yourself to heal.

“Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.” (Thomas More)

 

A Signature

Date: March 17, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The past is behind, learn from it.” (Thomas S. Monson)

As I’ve mentioned before, after we married my husband and his son moved into our home. To ease his son’s “culture shock,” my husband modified my family and house rules for his son. Which meant four children in the home lived one way and one child in the home lived another way. I don’t know what the experts would say about that but lets just say I wasn’t surprised when it didn’t appear to work. Honestly, I think it was frustrating for all parties involved. For my stepson, and despite the modifications, it still wasn’t his family, his former life, his former home and the way he was used to living, so I don’t think he was happy even with the modifications. Some of the children in the home couldn’t help but notice (and comment) about the differences and some of the younger children hounded me to have the same privileges and rules as the stepson instead of the ones our family had always lived by. With each passing month, it seemed to me like the arrangement wasn’t working very well but there was nothing I could do, I was the powerless new step-parent. And my poor husband simply tried to hold it all together for as long as he could!

Six months later my stepson moved in with his mother. He appeared happy to have a peaceful and quiet life again and to have his wishes repected regarding his living situation. I hoped it would turn out to be a good decision for him and that he would finally be happy. My husband missed his son.

A few months after that, my husband’s daughter was struggling in her life and living situation and it became necessary for her to find a new place to live. When the news reached her mother, she showed up on our porch one night, worried, emotional and panicked…and told my husband she couldn’t take her. Due to the challenges involved, my husband had some reservations about our ability to accommodate the needs of his daughter but we decided to give it a try. However, we had learned a few things from the previous experience; lessons taught to us courtesy of our inexperience and I wasn’t about to repeat them again!

I told my husband that for our situation, a contract (outlining rules, expectations and why things were expected, our parenting philosophy, etc…) was necessary. I wanted everyone involved to know and understand why I do what I do and why I emphasize certain things in the lives of the children I raise in our home. (Things like family time, chores/service to the family, good attitudes, faith/church activity, education/homework/good grades, obedience; I don’t think I insist on totally terrible or unrealistic things!) I was happy to do my part, but I wanted everyone to do their part, as well—including backing me up as a parent in my own home. I may have also said (ok, I totally did say) that unless all parties agreed to it and signed the document, we’d have to re-evaluate the situation and our decision. I feel THAT strongly that parents should be able to parent the children living in their home, regardless of who the children are, and I feel that way for so many reasons (to0 many to detail here.)

Interestingly, my husband consulted a counselor who suggested the very thing I had. The counselor had worked with teenage girls and their mothers just like my husband’s and advised, “Get it in writing and have all of the adults sign it.” I was assigned the task of writing the document, probably because I was the parent who felt very strongly about some things based on our previous experience (aka. I was the parent with the issues and concerns!) I wrote it, gave it to my husband, he reviewed it and added his input, and then I looked at him and said, “Now it’s your job to get it signed.”

Poor guy.

I know Hollywood makes divorce look easy, like it’s blissful and easy to separate, rebuild new lives, create new families and everyone can be one big happy family–the husband, the wife, ex-wives, ex-husbands, stepchildren, half-siblings, in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and everyone else involved. I know some families who have done that and it works for them. I’m sure the aforementioned situation is true in every situation…but ours. And while we’re only one year into it and I know things change and ease into place over time, at this point, I believe in being polite and kind to everyone but my opinion (and take it with a grain of salt because I’m not a fan of divorce and never have been; my husband says my views of divorce and my ideas about it are “archaic”—right out of the 1970s!) is that there’s usually a reason men and women choose to divorce, preferring to destroy their family unit and put their children and their finances through all that that entails rather than remain married to one another. I believe if you can get along well enough to be one big happy family, spend your holidays together, and be good friends post-divorce, you should probably just work out your issues and remain married in the first place!

My husband had to get the document signed and by that time, I think he had a lot of hope. He had the chance to live with one of his children again and  he desperately wanted to live one of his children again. He had a lot riding on that document. He needed his ex-wife’s signature to make it all possible and he was worried about that last tiny detail of the deal.

A signature.

“A signature always reveals a man’s character – and sometimes even his name.” (Evan Esar)

If Only…I’d Stayed Out Of The Batting Cage!

Date: April 27, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Yesterday’s post was titled, “Good News.” A friend of mine, and a reader of this blog, made some hilarious comments about baseball bats and having batting practice in my old neighborhood. (She is a character–as anyone who knows her knows! Thanks for the support and the laugh!)

Anyway, it reminded me of my most memorable experience with a baseball bat.

The day I broke my nose.

You see, He had just purchased a batting cage and pitching machine and my spouse installed it in our back yard. (I know, I know. Based on what I now know, it was most likely “purchased” with stolen money. And yes, I know, owning the same pitching machine used by the Colorado Rockies professional baseball team is a bit over the top for the average suburban family–which I thought we were–yet now I see NEVER were! What can I say? My former spouse never did things quite the same as everyone else. He was creative, enthusiastic and “over the top.” Thus, the pitching machine and batting cage in the back yard.)

Anyway, as soon as it was installed, He took me into it to show me how it worked. He told me where to stand, turned the machine on, and stood in there with me as pitches came and I hit baseballs. The speed was set at 30 mph. I turned out to be quite a slugger.

Within the week, a friend came over. He said he heard we had a pitching machine and he asked me to show him how it worked. I went out there with him, got in the cage with him, showed him where to stand, turned the machine on, and stood there as he hit balls. (I didn’t know a lot about baseball, or pitching machines, if you can’t tell. I was just doing what had been done when I was given a demonstration of the machine.)

My back was to him for awhile as I looked through the netting at the beautiful summer evening, flowers blooming, puffy clouds, hummingbirds flying. I must have turned around to watch him again right as he tipped a ball…straight into my nose.

The crack sounded like he had hit the ball out of the park!

Nope. Just into my nose. (I found out later my former spouse had gone in the batting cage and cranked up the pitching speed to 90 mph. He forgot to tell me.)

It actually didn’t hurt much at all (must have been the shock.) But I felt something begin to run, and worried about looking disgusting with blood running down my face not to mention not wanting to get blood on anyone, I put my hands to my nose to catch it.

My friend could have died. Can you imagine the poor guy? Totally not his fault, but there I stand, my hands filling with blood, and I was probably in a little bit of shock!

“Let it go, Andrea,” he said. I was doubled over trying to hide the mess I was sure was coming, but I managed a, “No! It’s going to be a mess.”

He said again, “Let it go, Andrea,” grabbed my hands, and I let it all go. (Another friend who was watching almost got sick. I could see it in his eyes, too. Poor guy!)

My friend walked me up to my house, and by the time we got there, both of us were a bloody mess. I went to the ER, I was told my options (fix it or not fix it) and sent home with an ice pack.

I’m totally a wimp when it comes to medical procedures, so I kept looking at my nose and trying to convince myself it wasn’t that bad, wasn’t that crooked, that only I could see the deviation because I’m such a perfectionist about some things. Like many infamous politicians, I “flip-flopped” back and forth. One moment I was going to have my nose straightened, the next moment I was not going to have my nose straightened. (Lets just say, if you saw the medical instruments they use to straighten a nose, you’d probably be tempted to leave yours crooked too.)

My college friend called when she found out, and she gave me great counsel about my life decision at that time. She said, “Andrea, we’re getting older. Changes are coming. There is not a lot we’ll be able to control or do about a lot of those things. Wrinkles are going to come and there is nothing you can do about them. But you CAN do something about your nose. You can choose to be old and wrinkled with a perfect nose, or you can choose to old and wrinkled with a crooked nose. Fix what you can fix so you don’t have any regrets when you’re old.”

She was so right.

I got my nose straightened. It actually took two tries because during the first attempt in the doctor’s office, I passed out (the doctor had a medical term for it and it scared him enough he didn’t dare attempt my procedure in his office, we had to reschedule in the operating room at a hospital!) And I counted my blessing that the ball had hit my nose and not my teeth! (I’d had braces twice already. What a tragedy, lol, if I lost my teeth after all of that hard work!)

Many things are handed to us in life that we have no control over and can’t really do anything about. Those things we let go–we gracefully endure and continue living in spite of their addition to our life. (And we try to find something good about our life, something we can be grateful for, even if it’s just the fact that we still have our teeth!:)

But SOME things we CAN “fix.” (Or at least give it our best shot at attempting to fix or make right.) And THEN we let go–we gracefully endure and continue living with or without them, depending on our success at fixing them. (And we try to find something good about our life, something we can be grateful for, even if it’s just the fact that we once had teeth!:)

And then we don’t look back. We press forward and carry on and look for the new day.

I heard a very wise man, Thomas S. Monson, once say something like, “The two most worthless words in the English language [or perhaps in any language] are ‘if only.’” He encouraged people to not look back or wistfully sigh about “if only,” but to look forward with hope, and make each day the best we can with what we are given.

Good advice for the outcomes in batting cages…and life!

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