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More Than Divorce To Make a Friendship

Date: July 12, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Every person is a new door to a different world.” (from movie “Six Degrees of Seperation”)

When I first moved to Utah, I met several women at church who introduced themselves to me and were very nice. I liked them and looked forward to getting to know them better and building a friendship with them. Instead, every one of them suggested I get to know a certain woman in the congregation. “We think you’d REALLY like her.”

I had left my friends behind in Colorado and missed them terribly. I didn’t know who the other woman was, but was so excited that there was a new friend waiting for me in Utah! I wondered if we were the same age, had the same talents, looked alike, had the same interests or what it was about me that reminded them of someone they already knew–and who they thought I’d be great friends with.

I soon found out. The woman was divorced.

“Being divorced is like being hit by a Mack truck. If you live through it, you start looking very carefully to the right and to the left.” (Jean Kerr)

Unfortunately, it takes more than a Mack truck to make a friendship!

I met the woman and couldn’t sense we had a single thing in common other than we were both divorced. We smile at each other and say hello, but that is the extent of our friendship. I have to say it again, it takes more than divorce (or having similar single status) to make a friendship.

The experience made me stop and wonder how often we categorize people, or make judgements about people, and cut ourselves off from many enriching experiences based on just one aspect of another’s existence. Although I’m a person who generally operates under the philosophy of “the more, the merrier,” I have been guilty of this in my own life on occasion and I have to wonder, “Did I ever compartmentalize friendship opportunities based on marital status?” I don’t think I did, but I hope, again, that I did not!

C.S. Lewis said, “Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art… It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.”

My artist sister may argue with me about art not being necessary to survival (lol) and I am quite an art lover myself in my own way. So there is a part of me that disagrees with C.S. Lewis–especially the part of me that wonders how I would ever have lived through the events of the past almost year without friends. But this I know and do agree with C.S. Lewis about: friends have added color to what was at moments, the bleak canvas of an unexpected life.

When the canvas of my existence was revealed to be a forgery, when the museum my canvas was housed in was seized, and when everything about my life’s art was devalued by others and even destroyed on some levels by the choices of another, my friends were there for me. They helped give value to my survival. And that helped me do the same for myself and my children. And to keep pressing forward when I didn’t even have an idea of the picture I was striving to create.

Friendships HAVE touched my soul and enriched my life. I am so grateful and so blessed to have friends like that, who continue to give value to my survival and add color to my existence. So thank you, again, to my old friends and my new friends.

I don’t know what I’d do without each of you and your good influence in my life! Each of my friends has broadened my perspective and enlarged my world. And made it so fun and so valuable. I am touched every single day of my life by the kindness of friends. I hope every person in the world feels that same way about friends, their friends, and the doors to new worlds each friend we make opens to us.

“This is my wish for you: Comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, rainbows to follow the clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, sunsets to warm your heart, hugs when spirits sag, beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you can believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, Love to complete your life.” (lynnie_buttercup)

Bachelor #13: Mr. Hostile

Date: July 8, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I have attended singles functions the past several months because…I’m single. If I stopped to analyze it, I guess I’m going to meet people and make friends. However, in the wake of the trauma I lived through discovering my spouse had betrayed me and neighbors and friends and relatives and strangers, in the aftermath of our divorce and our move to Utah and my return to the workforce full-time, I never let myself think about my purpose or motivation in going, or anything else related to being single. I just went.

So I can’t imagine what some people think of me.

There I am, at a singles function, with 99% of the people probably in attendance to meet members of the opposite sex, and I freeze (like a deer caught in headlights) every time a man asks for my phone number!

I stammer. I am not quite sure what to say. I’m shocked. I’m surprised. And I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to be seen giving out my phone number. Yet…don’t I go there to meet people and have social experiences? Clearly, I haven’t thought the whole thing through very well.

That’s how I met the man who would become Bachelor #13.

He wasn’t bad looking; he was tall; he had hair; he was educated; he had six children. And he was really pressing me for my phone number! In fact, he got out his phone to enter my contact info as we stood on the dance floor. I could have died! I asked him to put his phone away.

He obliged, but asked me for my business card. (Just my luck, my company hadn’t ordered mine yet so I had nothing like that to give him.) He began reaching for his phone again so I had to think quickly before he pulled his phone out in front of everyone again.

Instead, I asked if he had a business card and told him if he gave me one, I’d contact him and give him my information. (I’m a loser at some of this stuff, I admit it!)

He gave me his card. A few days later, I followed through on my commitment to contact him. I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. I didn’t know what to expect. All I know is I didn’t expect the full court press he gave me.

Bachelor #13 began calling all of the time, emailing every day, texting me constantly, and asking me out. I tried to keep an open mind about the whole thing, but something wasn’t quite right and I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was just an impression I had. As a result, my inclination was to take it slow. So that’s what I attempted to do. Much to Bachelor #13′s chagrin.

His constant presence in my life was too much too soon. After working all day, I needed to be free to spend time with my children and chat with them during the rest of their waking hours. I asked Bachelor #13 to please call me after 9:30 p.m. at night so I’d have time to spend time with my children, check their homework, and get them all taken care of and in bed before I became inaccessible because I was on the phone.

It seemed like he couldn’t wait that long. The phone calls came anyway.

So I told him my evenings were a bit more complicated than I’d anticipated; email was probably the best way to reach me.

Within a few days, I got a very hostile but anonymous text to my cell phone. The text message ranted and raved about how inaccessible I made myself, about how uninterested in men I must be to limit contact (outside of dates) to email and phone calls and only after a certain time of day. Then the text told me I was missing out, that he was the best thing that had ever happened to me, the best thing that would ever happen to me, and that I was an idiot. The message ended by saying, “And the best part about this? You don’t even know WHO this is!”

Yes, I had a pretty good idea who it was. I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid! It was Bachelor #13. He was the only man that I knew of, at the time, who had my contact info and was upset that I couldn’t or wouldn’t use it all hours of the day and night, and at the expense of my job and family!

That was the end of Bachelor #13.

I’ve seen him a few times since then but he won’t speak to me; he pretends not to know who I am when I say hello. So since he won’t speak to me, I’ll speak for him. This is what I imagine he’d say:

“I’m hostile to men, I’m hostile to women, I’m hostile to cats, to poor cockroaches, I’m afraid of horses.” (Norman Mailer)

With Bachelor #13, I’m not sure who dumped who. I’m just grateful it happened.

Life’s too short to lash out like that. And only cowards won’t sign their name.

—Andrea

Bachelor #10: The Importance of “Game”

Date: July 2, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m physically quite fit at the moment, and the leg was fine. The game wasn’t quite there.” (Ernie Els)

When I think of Bachelor #10, “game” comes to mind. Keep reading and you’ll find out why.

I met him online. He was from Idaho, but came to Utah a lot. He was a confident, somewhat brash salesman who said everything he thought. He preferred to talk on the phone and text. So he contacted me that way, even before we met in person. But he had some concerns.

First, he wanted to know if I really looked like the pictures I had posted.

When I asked what he meant by that, he said it looked like I had cropped my photos very creatively and he wanted to make sure I wasn’t 600 pounds in real life. Why had I only shown my face?

There was only one response to that. He had found me out.

I HAD intentionally cropped the pictures I posted but not for the reasons Bachelor #10 feared–but to crop my children out of them!

Because I am a mother, I didn’t have a single photo of me alone. (Why would I want one? I love my children!) And although some people posted pictures of their children online, I intentionally did not. Cropping issue resolved. But I was a little bit bothered by his “shallowness.” Who really thinks that way? I guess I still had a lot to learn about being single back then.

Second issue: my children.

Bachelor #10 wanted to know the ages of my children. At the time, they were 16, 14, 10 and 4. He choked when he heard the age of the four-year-old, but by then, I was pretty used to that.

“You’re 42 and you have a four-year-old?” he asked. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

What was I thinking? I was thinking that I believed in love, marriage and families. That I loved being a wife, a mother, and parenting my children. I believed I was happily married to a good man who was as devoted to our family as I was. That I wanted another child; that we could afford another child. (You see, I was getting the same “fake” investment statements my former spouse was sending to everyone else. Over the years we’d been married, I had watched our savings and investments “grow” just as every other victim of my former spouse’s Ponzi scheme had. At the time, I thought we had approximately $8 million dollars invested. I thought we could certainly afford another child!)

Those were just some of my thoughts.

I certainly was NOT thinking that I was going to be left penniless, divorced, single, and alone to raise four children!

All right, and I admit it, I was thinking (or hoping) that having a child in my late 30s would help keep me young!

Third issue: money. Bachelor #10 wanted to make sure that my children were taken care of financially. By someone else.

Nope. But he drove down and took me on a date anyway. Meeting him in person was interesting. It was a night full of revelations.

First of all, he was a large man. Especially in the vicinity of the stomach area. When I saw him I was stunned that he had been so concerned about the cropping of my photos and so particular about my possible size, when he clearly had already beat me in that area!

He was friendly and outgoing, though. And he continued to share his thoughts about…fidelity.

He told me he had been unfaithful to his wife once, had confessed to her what he had done, and they had repaired the marriage. Was that a problem for me? I tried to keep an open mind. After all, it was only one date. I said no, that was not a problem for me.

Then he revealed he had also had an affair with a different woman while he was married, but eventually felt guilty and confessed to his wife what he had done and they had repaired the marriage. Was an actual extra-marital affair a problem for me? (Keep that mind open, Andrea.) I said we were simply on one date, it was not a problem for me.

He may have mentioned additional indiscretions. I can’t remember now. But at end of the date, Bachelor #10 decided to lay it all on the line. He won me over with his last revelation. He told me he was still married! Was that a problem for me? THAT was a PROBLEM for ME. Because, “Men play the game; women know the score.” (Roger Woddis)

The best part of the date, however, happened when it was over. I went into my house, shut the door, and got a text soon after. It was Bachelor #10. I wondered if he was texting me from my driveway! He wanted to know one thing. “Do I got game?”

I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to ask a question like that after revealing not only multiple infidelities, but that he was still married! No, there was no game. Not only do I not play games, I especially don’t play games with married men.

I didn’t bother to respond.

I went to work the next day and asked my hip, younger co-workers what Bachelor #10 could possibly have meant by that last question (just to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood.) They explained, “He wants to know if he’s a player, if you’re into him, if you like him, if he has mojo, if you’re going to date him again.”

Nope.

Bachelor #10 texted me a few times after that, but I never responded. I think he eventually got the message that he did not have game and that even if he had game, I wasn’t going to be a part of it.

Goodbye Bachelor #10. Take your “game” someplace else.

“By the time the fool has learned the game, the players have dispersed.” (African Proverb)

Bachelor #_: Cyber Stalker

Date: June 29, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Before I leave the topic of stalker men, I think I’ll share the scariest online experience I had as a newly single, testing out the whole online scene, divorced mother and sole parent and support of four children living in Utah.

A Cyber Stalker.

To this day, I don’t know who he was or how he found me.

All I know is that late one night, I was sitting at my computer, innocently checking my messages, when I heard a crackling sound. It took me a minute to process it, and I heard shuffling and other noises while I continued to check my email. Then I heard someone cough.

It was late at night, I was the only one awake at my house. I was sitting in front of my computer wearing my pajamas and glasses. The cough was very unexpected, and it came from right by me.

It made me jump.

I looked on my screen and I saw a window open, with a round-faced, dark-haired man wearing glasses and a mustache sitting in his home (or some location I’ve never seen before) peering down at me. Looking at me!

I may be 42 years old, but I move fast when I need to. I dove under the desk! My heart was pounding. Who was that man? And how had he connected to my computer? And how was he able to see me, sitting at home in my own house?

From underneath the desk I grabbed the keyboard and mouse and moved to close the window. And then I accessed the online site and blocked the man whose name appeared on the screen. To this day, I don’t know how the man did what he did. But it freaked me out!

I asked the I.T. guy, Bachelor #7, how that was possible and he didn’t have an answer for me. He just told me I was wise to block someone like that.

Farewell to my Cyber Stalker. He wasn’t even worthy of a number, in my opinion. I’m not sorry to see him go.

NOW…on to Bachelor #9.

One Date

Date: June 10, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

An interesting thing happened on that first date. Well, a couple of things.

First, I learned that your date always wants to know your story on the first date–ie. why you got divorced. Wow. I didn’t know that in advance and I was so clueless about dating in the year 2009 I didn’t know to expect that. So when Bachelor #1 asked me that, in my usual deer-caught-in-headlights style, I told him the WHOLE story. Based on the way I’d been treated by some people since the nightmare leading to my single status began, I worried he might open the door and leave me on the side of the road in a Utah city I didn’t know very well yet as soon as he knew my history! But I didn’t consider not telling him or not telling the truth. So I told him. Everything.

His reaction shocked me. He looked at me and said just two words: “I’m sorry.”

Sorry? HE was sorry? He hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t known me, in fact, had just met me but he was sorry? I was stunned. He told me he was sorry about what had happened to me and my children. He said he was sorry we had had to live through all of that. And you know what? Just having a virtual stranger hear my story and tell me he was sorry it had happened (instead of immediately questioning my knowledge of what had gone on–or worse, my possible involvement) was healing. I was on the path to overcoming.

Other things helped too. Like laughing, having fun, and feeling carefree for an hour or two. I noticed that for the first time since March 18, I didn’t feel alone and like I, alone, was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. While on that date, I had a break from my sorrow and my troubles and THAT was a welcome relief!

And, of course, after the decades of lies and betrayals that led to me worrying about being an “old bag” and feeling like one, having a man compliment my appearance was an added bonus!

Before I went in the house, my date also gave me some excellent dating advice for the second time around.

He told me I’d find dating very different in my 40s. He said that by the time people reach our age, they know very quickly what they want and what they don’t want. He told me to not be offended if someone didn’t like me or want to date me a second time. He said, “Remember back in high school just because you met people, you didn’t want to date ALL of them!” (Just when you thought high school was long in the past…you become unexpectedly single again!) He told me never to think something was wrong with me, it would simply be a matter of them and what they were looking for.

I headed into the house sure I’d never hear from him again.

One date. And already a loser!

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Circles

Date: May 29, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

It’s funny how things turn out.

On March 18, 2009, when I discovered my husband had been running a Ponzi scheme and would be heading to prison, in that moment I thought every possibility and dream for a bright future for my children and I had been shattered. Of course, I continued to press forward and talk positively about our opportunities for the sake of my children, but deep inside sometimes I wondered how my children and I were ever going to overcome the monumental challenges we were facing.

We moved from Colorado to Utah and began a new life. There were some dark moments and hard days, especially in the beginning. Some of us seemed to struggle more than others with the adjustment. But there were also many tender mercies, small miracles and blessings. And eventually, we all realized we liked our new home and our new life. We are happy in our unexpected life. VERY happy.

This was reinforced last week. I went with my oldest to his end-of-season high school track team banquet. We enjoyed time together just the two of us. Aside from our late night chats and drives, I couldn’t remember the last time it was just he and I alone in the daylight. Note to self: spend time with oldest more often when we’re both more coherent and awake! lol. Not only was it absolutely enjoyable to be with him, it was fun for me, as his mother, to put faces to the names and stories I’ve heard the past few months.

Then came the awards portion of the evening. As it was his first track season, and his first attempt at learning the hurdles, he wasn’t expecting any awards. In fact, every time I’d tried to go to a track meet this season he had discouraged me from watching, told me he wasn’t doing very well and that this was his season to learn and I should watch him run next year. So I almost fell off my chair when my son was awarded a varsity letter in track! And then he got an All-Region Academic Excellence Award too!

As we were pulling out of the parking lot afterward, I had to ask why he’d insisted he was performing so poorly in track all season. He said, “I did. I didn’t break one school record–that was my goal!”

I said, “So you aimed for the stars and only hit the moon and THAT is why you didn’t think you did very well? THAT is why you wouldn’t let your mother watch you race?”

And as we drove home I had to shake my head at the turn of events in our life the past year. Every single aspect of our new life is going so much better than I ever expected it would. I told my son what a great experience the track banquet was, and what a great opportunity it was for him to participate on his school’s track team. He agreed. I said, “You have created a great new life here. I am so thankful and so proud of your attitude and all you’ve accomplished.”

He replied, “Yes, it has been amazing. I am so happy here. The only thing I regret is…”

Here is where I started to die inside–gut reaction of a worried mother. I braced myself to hear the disappointment and prepared myself to instantly put a positive spin on whatever his challenge was.

Instead, he finished by saying, “The only thing I regret is…that I didn’t get to go to all four years of high school here. Next year is going to be AWESOME!”

Whoa. Last summer, and even at the start of last school year, I never imagined he’d ever feel that way or that I’d ever hear him say that! I realized we have come full circle.

“There must be a positive and negative in everything in the universe in order to complete a circuit or circle, without which there would be no activity, no motion.” (John McDonald)

Equation for the unexpected life: positive + negative = progress (and eventual peace and joy!)

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An Unexpected Realization

Date: May 28, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

So life carried on in Utah.

I worked all day, commuted home, spent time with my children in the evenings, tried to keep up with laundry and cleaning to some degree, but mostly worried about the emotional state of my children and tried to do anything I could think of to help them through the trauma.

My children were incredible troopers through the whole thing. My daughter took it upon herself (without being asked) to take over the menu planning, grocery shopping, and cooking. She also became the second mother to her younger siblings AND did much of the laundry.

My oldest son took it upon himself (without being asked) to do yard work, car maintenance, and train his younger brothers in those things. He brainstormed yard projects he wanted to do someday if we ever had money. He even helped discipline. I remember one night my middle son was struggling with grief and the fallout from his new life, and he spoke to me rudely. My oldest son went to him, brought him to face me, and said, “You don’t talk to your mother that way. Apologize.”

I felt bad that he had to take on such an adult role, but was also grateful for the help and support. What I felt most, however, was amazement that I had such incredible children who so excellently rose to the demands of their new life and carried on without complaint! They kept their grades up, they added many responsibilities to their lives, and they didn’t ask for things they wanted–they knew there was no money. They cared for each other, worked together, and grew closer. They will be amazing, prepared adults–I’ve already seen glimpses of that.

My youngest turned 4 years old. We didn’t have much money to celebrate, but we did what we do best. We gathered around the birthday boy and shared all of the things we love about him. (Compliments don’t cost anything!) Sharing our love was free. After which we had birthday cake and a family dance party. In the middle of the song “Kung Fu Fighting,” my middle son was standing on a bench dancing karate moves when we heard a thunderous crash, looked over, and saw him laying on his back amid the shattered remains of what had once been a bench in the entry way of our home!

We all froze, not sure if he was hurt or possibly even paralyzed! Then we saw him start shaking with laughter. Soon we all joined in. What a memory! (And of course, we told him not to move while my oldest grabbed a camera and captured the memory in a picture!) It not only was the first time I’d ever lost a piece of furniture to destruction by a child, but it was one of the first of many “crazy” fun times in the our new HOME. It was worth the sacrifice of wood and upholstery; the bench hadn’t really fit in the new home anyway.

I think that was the night our house became our home for good.

I also got some of the best advice I’ve ever received as a single mom right about that time. From a friend who had been a single mother of four herself. She told me she felt the most important thing she did was to not worry about the house and long “to do” lists when she was home with her children in the evenings, but rather, she let the house go and simply enjoyed her children. Not only was that good advice for me, it was liberating. I felt like I had permission to not worry about the dust, and I was free to spend time with my kids!

And that I did. Some nights we went up the canyon. Sometimes we just sat in the backyard and talked. We played games. Sometimes we went for a drive or an ice cream cone. But after the dinner dishes were done, we didn’t worry about work. We just enjoyed each other, and I’m grateful we did. I have no regrets about working less, but I’d sure have regrets if I’d enjoyed my children less!

Sleep was in short supply last summer, but fun and love was plentiful. Looking back, we were our own version of “Musketeers.” All for one and one for all! As scary as it was to be alone in the world with my four children, that was also such a special time. We grew even closer together and learned to love and appreciate each other even more. We worked to see that we were still a family–not broken, not minus anything, a whole unit. A different unit than we had once been, but a solid family unit. (We just had to rely on others more for help with some things.)

Those were GREAT times. To be the sole parent and support of four children, to be a single mother, and everything that came with our new life was unexpected. But at the same time, it turned out to be such an opportunity and a blessing for my children and I. And most unexpectedly, I NEVER thought I’d say this, but should our situation ever change…there is a part of me that will miss those days when it was just my children and I: scared and bonded together like glue in our fear, experiencing new things, growing in unexpected ways, learning to laugh again, and rising above challenges together day after day, time after time, until one day we all realized we felt “normal.”

Triumphant.

Healed.

In our unexpected life.

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Schmuck Of The Week

Date: May 25, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I read in the media one day that Shawn Merriman (my husband, at the time he was nominated for the dubious distinction) was the “Schmuck of The Week,” and in the forerunning for the “Schmuck of The Year.”

How does it feel to be married, or to have been married, to the “Schmuck of The Week”? It’s a little bit of a dark spot in the otherwise bright existence, overall, I like to think of as my unexpected life. But not as dark as some moments. Like another dark day of last August 2009, the day He was formally charged by the U.S. attorney’s office and taken into custody.

It was a necessary step in the administration of consequences of the crimes He committed by running a Ponzi scheme for 15 years and stealing approximately $20 million from multiple victims. (I’m not saying he didn’t deserve the consequences. I’m simply saying it was another sad, tragic day in what had become many since the revelations of the crimes He had committed.)

We were divorced, but He called me that morning (basically because He had no one else to call) to say goodbye. I felt as if he were saying goodbye before heading to the electric chair. We’d been living in limbo, to some degree, prior to that day and it had finally arrived. I knew it was coming. I just could NOT comprehend it had actually arrived.

I worked all day, tried to focus on my projects, and the minutes ticked by on the clock. It was a very long day.

Periodically (at lunch or on a break) I’d check the internet for media coverage–any word of what, if anything, had transpired a state away. Nothing. It was my secret vigil. No one knew that while I was working in Utah, my former spouse was heading to jail in Colorado. It was a challenge of epic proportions: to keep my mind on my work and the tasks at hand…while waiting for word and publicity of something so dark for our family.

And then late in the afternoon, although I had to have been expecting it because I’d been looking for it all day, suddenly…it was there. I had intentionally sought the information, yet I was stunned when it actually popped up on my computer screen! I’d been on pins and needles all day. I’d had a pit in my stomach for hours. For good reason.

The media reported the whole thing, including federal marshals “clasping handcuffs on the accused Ponzi schemer Shawn Merriman in federal court” and the courtroom of smiling victims errupting in cheers and applause. One victim commented, “That was us clapping hard.”

It sickened me.

I went in the bathroom and didn’t just cry. I think I threw up. I was filled with dread at what had transpired, and I was absolutely sickened at the behavior of some. What kind of people exult in the demise of another–regardless of what that person has done?

“How could man rejoice in victory and delight in the slaughter of men?” (Lao Tzu)

It caused some serious introspection on my part. I tried hard to think of anything anyone could do that would make me smile, clap and cheer at the demise of another. Thankfully, I couldn’t think of an instance. And I hope I never can. I think I will have lost some part of me, some degree of goodness or compassion or humanity (I don’t know what you call it), if I ever allow myself to exult in the tragedy and demise of another regardless of whether or not some may judge it to be deserved.

Another victim commented, “There won’t be justice.”

They’re probably right. I know I will never have “justice” in this life. And I’m ok with that. That isn’t why I believe I’m here; it isn’t what I am about. Even little kids know life isn’t fair, don’t they? If life were “fair” a lot of things would be different, including justice. But would we be better if it were? Would we learn what we need to know? Based on the behavior of those wronged by my former spouse, I have to wonder.

And in the midst of my musings, I had to commute home and prepare to face my children. I had to look in their eyes, and watch their expressions, I had to comfort them in their tears when they learned what had taken place that day.

Another strange state of existence that day was the fact that for the first time since 1989, I didn’t know where He was, how to reach Him, what He was enduring, how He was being treated, or how I could contact Him for the sake of our children.

Not a fun day. Slightly less fun than having once had marital ties to the “Schmuck of The Week!”

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So Much For Anonymity

Date: May 20, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

We moved to Utah for a variety of reasons, the biggest being employment and that Utah is where things worked out for us to live. However, we had a few other motives too. Like the fact that it would be a clean break, a fresh start, and a chance to live where no one knew who we were, who we had once been related to or what we had just been through. Having had our brush with “celebrity,” not one of us was sad to leave the paparazzi behind!

But we had a few things NOT in our favor if we wanted to be completely anonymous. (And believe me, we were all so shell-shocked, that probably would have been our preference had we had a choice!)

Our first Sunday at church, our pastor asked for some personal information so he could request our church records from our previous congregation. I hesitated to give it to him so soon, wanting to make sure the divorce was final on church records so that my former spouse’s information was not transferred with ours. Although I hadn’t planned on it, I told the pastor a little of our situation to explain why I wasn’t ready to have him transfer our records yet. Poor man. He made an innocent phone call to get my birth date, and ended up knowing a LOT more than he was probably prepared to learn!

But that impulse to tell him our story when my plan had been to keep it quiet turned out to be a blessing. Less than a week after my conversation with my new pastor, he called to tell me it was good I’d told him my story; that a member of the congregation had come to him and told him he should google the new woman from Colorado who had moved in–that she had quite a story. He said, “Thank goodness you had told me. I was able to tell them I imagined you had moved here to start over and didn’t want everyone to know your past. I asked them to not share that information with others.”

So much for anonymity in the day of internet and search engines! lol.

On the bright side, I don’t know who the person was who googled me and shared it with the pastor, I never asked, but I never heard a word about my former life from anyone. To my knowledge, they honored the pastor’s request.

And then a few weeks later, after my former spouse had been taken into custody and placed in Colorado’s Jefferson County Jail, I opened the mailbox to find three letters from him. Mailed from jail. On the outside of each envelope, stamped in large letters, were the words “Uncensored Inmate Mail!” I looked down at what I was holding in my hand and all I could do was laugh! So much for anonymity. So much for a “fresh start!”

“This has been a learning experience for me. I also thought that privacy was something we were granted in the Constitution. I have learned from this when in fact the word privacy does not appear in the Constitution.” (Bill Maher)

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Three Weeks Later

Date: May 18, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

In my new life in Utah, I commute to work. The entire drive I am fortunate to have beautiful, jagged rocky mountains to look at. Last year, my commute was my time to have a few minutes of silence every day–I couldn’t listen to the radio because most of the songs made me cry. And at that time, not crying when I was alone was hard enough, I didn’t need any extra help! lol. In 2009, my commute was also my time to try NOT to think about what had become my life.

Three weeks into my new life in Utah, I read a story about a pioneer man who lost his wife coming across the plains. He buried her, and by that night had also lost his infant son. He walked back to his wife’s grave, dug her up and buried the baby with her, and then returned to the wagon train he was traveling with. He quit writing in his journal for awhile, but when he picked up again, he wrote only, “Still Walking.”

That’s how I felt.

I didn’t have the time, energy, or opportunity to write about my life. I was hardly able to face what had become of my life. I wasn’t sure why it was my new life. I struggled with my new life. And because I’d been taught “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,” I didn’t say anything. I was so overwhelmed, I didn’t have the time to write anyway.

If I had written, I would have recorded that in the beginning of my new life as a single mother, I HATED leaving my children and going to work each day. I was filled with grief for the many things I had lost and for what my innocent children had been put through. It took all of my will to get up every day and go to work, come home, and do everything for the family.

I also had a moment or two, I admit, of thinking (while I commuted) “If this is the rest of my life, if THIS is what I have to look forward to for the next 40-60 years, I don’t think I want it.” Sometimes my optimism was…not optimism! As I drove, my mental “wallowing” was equivalent to a pig stuck in muck in the barnyard. I knew it. I didn’t want to be that, but sometimes I just couldn’t help myself. In the beginning, I couldn’t imagine ever healing, ever feeling “whole” again or ever being o.k. with any part of my life. I just felt like I had to live my new life and give the appearance that things were good and I was happy for the sake of my children.

I think, or at least I hope, that most of those feelings I wallowed in were normal. In my experience, it was part of the process of healing and overcoming. The trick, though, is to not allow yourself to get stuck in the “mental muck” for too long; to not allow yourself to wallow too deep. Because, “They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.” (Andy Warhol)

He’s right.

So I hoped for better days ahead. I didn’t know how long it would take them to arrive, but I knew I had to hang on until they did. I had to hope that, as my mom used to say, “this too, shall pass.” I had to hope that I would feel comfort and peace, that I would be able to carry on just one more day. I had to hope that I’d be able to have fun with my children again. (We’d all grieved so much, I felt we needed FUN! I knew I needed to set a good example of fun for my children, I just felt so heavy in my heart I didn’t know how I would be able to do that, too.)

And in addition to hope, I had to do what I could to look for the good and count the blessings I still had. I had to work to create a life I could be happy with and I had to let go of the old one. There was still a good life to be lived. A very different life from the life I’d had or imagined as my future, but it was still good.

“Difficult times have helped me understand better than before how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way, and that so many things that one goes worrying about are of no importance whatsoever.” (Isak Dinesen)

Somewhere along I-15, and with time, by the fall of 2009 I noticed I was crying less and then eventually not crying at all. There isn’t a lot to cry about anymore. In fact, there may not be anything left to cry about. I can’t remember the last time I cried.

My mom was right. Again.

Things DO pass. Time DOES heal. You just have to let things and time work their magic. And you have to use the things you are “blessed” with, to make you a better person than you would otherwise have been. Difficult times have helped me realize that, again, and so much more.

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