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The New Feel of Darkness

Date: June 14, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I wondered vaguely if this was when it would end, whether I would pull up tonight’s darkness like a quilt and be dead and at peace evermore.” (William Manchester)

When I was thrust into my unexpected life two years ago, it felt dark and very overwhelming. I confess, I probably had a moment or two where I could absolutely relate to William Manchester. Several nights I went outside in the backyard of my Colorado home to be alone, mourn my losses, cry, pray, and to try to figure out a plan: as in, how was I going to feed and shelter four children? By myself? And how was I going to not just start over, but start over “from a hole?”

Although, “There’s nothing like a nighttime stroll to give you ideas,” (Mad-Eye Moody, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, 2000), I was short on ideas and options back then! But at least I knew, “When the darkness comes, keep an eye on the light…no matter how far away it seems.” (Jan Berry) I’d been raised to believe in and have faith that “For every dark night, there’s a brighter day.” (Tupac Shakur) And it’s true. I know it now, just as I knew it then, as hard as it was to always believe it.

So I didn’t succumb to the night’s darkness. Despite the black hole that was my new world, I didn’t quit. I may have ended every day in tears by crying myself into a fitful sleep (what little I slept), and I woke up and cried when I opened my eyes to my new reality and realized it wasn’t a bad dream but my new life (THAT is something–when your reality is worse than a nightmare! LOL), but I carried on as best I could.

Last night, I was out in the backyard of my Utah home. It was late, close to 11 p.m., but I wasn’t alone or mourning anything; I was planting a garden with #5!

With our busy work and family schedules, that was the time we had available to do it–so I kept the dirt moist with water and held the camping lantern so we could see, and #5 dug the holes, placed the plants in the earth, and covered them with soil. We talked, laughed, worked side by side and enjoyed one another. And when we finished, #5 went to put the tools and equipment away. I was left, alone, in the late night blackness of a summer night.

It has been awhile since I’ve thought about the dark summer nights alone in my Colorado yard, but brief memories of that time came unbidden. I indulged in them for just a moment, wondering if I’ll ever experience dark summer nights alone without remembering that traumatic time in 2009 but also marveling at the difference time, and light, can make.

“I guess darkness serves a purpose: to show us that there is redemption through chaos. I believe in that.” (Brendan Fraser) So do I. Because I’m living proof. Out of darkness and chaos came redemption…in the form of a very unexpected life. Time and again I’ve seen it happen—in this century, in previous ones, to every person, everywhere, regardless of the challenge or struggle.

There is ALWAYS light, and life, at the end of the tunnel, your tunnel, whatever that challenge may be.

That’s life. And since that’s life, while we’re here, we ought to experience it and remember that, ”Only the person who has experienced light and darkness, war and peace, rise and fall, only that person has truly experienced life.” (Stefan Zweig)

And if you’ve never planted a garden late at night by the light of a lantern, I recommend you experience that too.

“See you in the darkness.” (Gary Gilmore)

Big Stick

Date: June 12, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman
“Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far.” (Theodore Roosevelt)
My youngest has the “big stick” aspect of achievement totally together; I guess we just have to work on the volume of his speech! Here’s why.
The other night he and a friend were playing in the backyard. Amazingly, and for once, they were content to actually stay in the yard; I was thrilled. (He is a busy boy. It’s my full-time job in the evenings, after working my full-time job during the day, to try to keep track of him.)
But then it dawned on me how odd it was that they were so content to play in our fenced yard. And suddenly, I realized how quiet it had become. (All mothers know that is NEVER a good sign!)
I went out to check on them and found them having a glorious battle with “sticks,” amid a cushion of  lush green leaves, laughing and having a delightful time! There was just one problem. For “sticks,” they were using my two two-year-old fruit trees they had whacked to death and pulled apart–clear out of the ground!
I was not happy.
I sent the friend home and had a discussion with my young son. “WE DO NOT EVER CHOP DOWN TREES! ESPECIALLY FRUIT TREES! IN THE YARD!”
However, I had questions. My biggest question was, “WHY on EARTH would you CHOP DOWN A TREE?”
He looked at me, like it made all the sense in the world, and replied, “But Mom! I NEEDED a big stick!”
What is it with boys…and sticks? And why, after 18 years of mothering boys, does their logic STILL not always make sense to me?
But then, sometimes sensibility is over rated.
“No good opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible.” (W. H. Auden)
And you know, the more I think about it, the more I realize that’s how life is. We’re living life and then unexpectedly, something happens. It doesn’t always make sense. Many times we’re thrust into a situation that changes things and we’ve got to make due; even improvise; do the best with what we’re left with; use what we’ve got or what we can come up with; and carry on. Always looking with faith and hope to the future. Not dwelling on our losses.
Like a life once lived. “Things” once enjoyed. Money once in our possession…or anything else. Like fruit trees. Or peony bushes–but THAT’S another story, for another time. (Yet coincidentally, involving the same son!)
But you know what? Regardless of what happens, you can always sing.

Speaking of Battles

Date: June 11, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Americans love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle.” (George S. Patton)

Ok. So it’s time for a little too much information. About #5. And the way he “fights.” Get this:

1. He doesn’t yell. He discusses issues, calmly and patiently, in a rational manner. I appreciate that. (It’s how I’m inclined to resolve things, as well.)

2.  He is loving and affectionate, even in the face of a disagreement. For example, when we’re discussing an “issue,” he is touching my shoulder, holding my hand or has an arm around my waist. (I have to say, I love this one. I’ve never seen anyone “fight” like this, but I appreciate it!)

3. The one or two discussions we’ve had since the infamous conversation pre-marriage when he “dumped” me and that I would consider a “fight,” #5 either doesn’t remember them or he doesn’t consider them “fights.” I think three times now he has told me,” “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been mad at you before!” (I appreciate his short term memory in this regard!)

4. He’s got the “kiss and make up” part at the end together! (SORRY! Just had to throw that in there– I’ve already shared TMI in this post, what’s a little more?) I guess you could say he has learned what Bob Marley has: “The harder the battle the sweet of jah victory.” Whatever that means.

However, if, “The ultimate test of a relationship is to disagree…but hold hands,” (Unknown) then #5 and I have passed the test. Each and every time.

The Adventure Called Remarriage, I Mean…War

Date: June 10, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Marriage is an adventure, like going to war.” (Gilbert K. Chesterton)

Just kidding.

It is an adventure for sure, but thank goodness, there aren’t a lot of battles at our house; just the occasional “differences of opinion.” The only problem? I never expected that. So it has been an adjustment for me.

I know “normal” people must think I’m crazy, or dishonest, when I say I didn’t expect many differences of opinion in my new marriage, but I didn’t experience a lot of disagreements or differences of opinion in my previous marriage. At the time, I thought it meant that my first husband and I were extremely compatible; now I see it could also have been the result of one of us living a double life that included dishonesty in many forms, on many levels, including a Ponzi scheme. I mean, what do you get when one spouse is living a lie and the other spouse doesn’t know? Not a lot to fight about!

So as I married #5, I was surprised at the number of “fights” we had (especially considering how much we have in common, how compatible we are, and that we were engaged plenty long–long enough to work everything out before marriage, right?) Actually, let me clarify that “fight” claim. According to #5, they aren’t fights; they are “differences of opinion.”

One day, in the middle of one such divergent opinion situation, #5 asked me what I thought. I said, “I’m thinking I don’t know how to be married to you.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“Because all we do is fight!” I replied.

At that, he began to laugh. “Andrea! These aren’t fights, I don’t think we’ve even had a fight yet. Sometimes I just have a different opinion than you do, and I share that, but we’re not fighting. We’re simply not of the same opinion on everything, and that’s ok. In fact, I think it’s healthy.”

Then he dropped a bombshell. ”But I AM thinking you haven’t had many people disagree with you in your life. You’re an oldest child, you have lots of opinions, you feel strongly about things, and you say what you think. I’m thinking there haven’t been many people who have dared disagree with you in your life, so this is an adjustment for you. But don’t worry, it’s good!”

Second marriage moment #14.

The realization that my husband may be right; learning that a difference of opinion in marriage isn’t abnormal and it isn’t a fight; remembering, again, that marriage teaches you SO much (not only about your partner and your companionship) but especially about yourself.

I didn’t expect that the second time around.

What I Miss

Date: June 9, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Dogs need to sniff the ground; it’s how they keep abreast of current events. The ground is a giant dog newspaper, containing all kinds of late-breaking news items, which, if they are especially urgent, are often continued in the next yard.” (Dave Barry)

Speaking of yards, I had a yard sale last weekend. A neighbor perused my junk, pulled me aside, and said, “Tell me. You’ve had a lot in your life and now you have a little. Is there anything about the old life that you miss?”

I didn’t even have to think about it.

Yes, I miss something. I know what it is and it crosses my mind every single day try as I might to not dwell on the past or think about my losses.

It’s true. I used to enjoy a lot, materially, in life: a decent-sized home with custom travertine stone floors, granite counters, custom cabinetry, Rembrandts and other fine art and etchings adorning its walls; art sculptures in the yard along with a Sportcourt, a swimming pool, ponds filled with expensive and unique Koi fish and water lilies, tetherball, a in-ground trampoline; world travel; cruises; fine dining; luxury cars; a boat; ATVs of all types; a motorhome (although I never loved that one!); shopping at Nordstrom; a house cleaner; a gardener; money in the bank and absolutely NO financial worries or concerns; and a plethora of other privileges, to name a few that quickly come to mind. All of it was once mine—or so I thought.

But do you know, out of all of it, what I miss? (And this is the answer I gave to my neighbor.)

Just one thing.

And it’s actually not a “thing.”

The only thing about the old life that I miss is…being a stay-at-home mom focused on raising my children and taking care of the home they live in full-time. Being there when they are sick. Greeting them when they arrive home from work or school. Allowing my little one to sleep in if he is tired.

That’s it.

“I’m a very lazy, stay-at-home kind of girl.” (Jerry Hall)

Except now I’m a full-time working one, grateful for a job that allows me to provide for my children.

“Not only is women’s work never done, the definition keeps changing.” (Bill Copeland)

Such is the unexpected life.

New Shoes

Date: June 8, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and sixty.” (Imelda Marcos)

It has been an unexpected epiphany for me to realize that although I was happily married (the first time) for 20 years and was quite confident in my abilities as a wife and mother, and despite the fact I thought I “knew” what marriage was and how to have a good one, I’m still learning new things!

New things about myself. My new husband. Marriage. Love. And life.

I honestly didn’t anticipate that, I don’t know why. Maybe I thought of marriage as a pair of comfortable shoes that I loved and enjoyed wearing—and I expected to slip back in to the same comfortable shoes? I guess I forgot I gave up that previous pair of shoes when I divorced. I’ve experienced for myself that remarriage is an ENTIRELY different, and surprisingly NEW, pair of shoes!

Despite the fact that between us we have nearly 40 years of marriage experience, #5 and I have stepped into a pair of shoes we’ve never worn before. They’re amazingly comfortable. In some ways, we marvel at how comfortable they feel after just three months of (mostly) wedded bliss. Yet there are moments that remind me I’m in a NEW pair of shoes.

Like every time I learn something new. (Which occurs pretty frequently as said “learning opportunities” seem to take place at least weekly!) Things I’ve learned right out of the (shoe)box include learning to live with someone new (aka. put the toothpaste tube cap on tight, please!); what it’s like to be married to someone tidy, who helps with the cooking, dinner dishes, household chores, laundry and making the bed; all about the reality of “blending” families (LOTS more on that coming soon!); and how to be married to someone “new.” Honestly, I’ve been shocked at all I’ve learned. And occasionally I wonder about the fairness of it all–having to start over and relearn everything I thought I already knew (I just knew it in relation to someone else) when I’m this old!

I believe old dogs can learn new tricks, #5 and I prove that almost every day; it’s not always easy. But it’s worth it. Not just because we’re in love and committed to our marriage, but because, “It’s what you learn after you know it all that counts.” (Attributed to Harry S. Truman)

And I like to think it all helps keep me young. “Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young.” (Henry Ford)

I never knew my unexpected life would include a fountain of youth: Remarriage.

Don’t Tell Women Your Secrets

Date: June 3, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Am I now supposed to go on Oprah and cry and tell you my deepest, darkest secrets because you want to know?” (Kevin Spacey)

In a word? Yes. Especially if you’re a 5th grade boy.

My middle son just completed the 5th grade today. He learned a lot this year, academically as well as socially, including some important life lessons. For instance, I’ll never forget the day he came home and said, with complete disgust, “Mom! NEVER tell women your secrets!”

I was somewhat offended. I mean, I know I’m very open with what I share on this blog, but I would never betray a trust of confidence placed in me, whether it be from a stranger, a friend, a family member or even an enemy (although I hope I don’t have any of those!) I never have and I never will. My children, of all people, should know that.

And then it hit me. This is my boy with a lot of personality and dazzling blue eyes. He has had girls chasing him (one even paid him coins every time he’d go to her house to play!) since kindergarten. I hoped I wasn’t right in my suspicion, but I had a sinking feeling he’d been a little too honest about something regarding the opposite sex.

“Uh, oh!” I said. “You didn’t tell a girl which girl you like, did you?” Everyone knows not to do that, don’t they?

“How did you know?” he asked.

“Just a guess, but now you know: NEVER do that,” I replied. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew that.”

“But mom, SHE asked me for the information,” he explained. “She PROMISED me she wouldn’t tell anyone, and then she went RIGHT to the girl and told her!”

“And?” I asked.

“And now the girls who like ME are mad!” he said. “NEVER tell women your secrets!” A very poignant lesson. And he stormed off to take his frustration out on the trampoline. He did some wicked flips that day.

“Dolphins. They think they’re so cute. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m a flippy little dolphin, let me flip for you.’” (Chum, “Finding Nemo”)

Just don’t tell a girl who you’ve flipped for…if you’re an 11-year-old boy!

A very important life lesson to learn.

“I Love You”

Date: May 31, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or write…on the bathroom mirror!

Speaking of Adjustments

Date: May 24, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“If you can sell green toothpaste in this country, you can sell opera.” (Sarah Caldwell)

You have to love marriage. It teaches you things, and shows you things about yourself, that you never ever knew. But here’s the difference between first marriage and remarriage (or maybe it’s the difference between youth and experience): you learn not to sweat the small stuff.

For example, in addressing the reality of marriage let us not neglect the infamous tube of toothpaste episode. We can’t!  I mean, doesn’t EVERY marriage have one?

Lest anyone has received the mistaken impression that #5 is walking male perfection (although he is very close), know that while brushing his teeth one day, he looked at me, held the tube of toothpaste we shared, and made a comment not just about which part of the tube had been squeezed…but about the tightness (or lack thereof) of the cap.

“Huh?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about. I confess, it has been years (probably 22 of them) since I’ve given any thought to squeezing a tube of toothpaste and where–and I don’t think I had EVER given any thought to the tightness of the cap on the toothpaste tube!

In first marriages, said incident has caused many a “first fight.” However, in remarriage, it is more like this:

The offending party (me) realized something about herself she had never known before; determined to pay more attention to the little details of toothpaste tube squeezing; and resolved, then and there, to work to always put the toothpaste tube cap on completely. A little thing on her part that would make such a difference to #5. No offense taken, just rational analysis and a determination to improve. No big deal.

The offended party (#5) knows there are easy solutions to the little irritations of life and relationships, ways to avoid potential problems (especially if you tackle them before they actually become problems) and he was willing to take action then and there. “Or should I just buy my own tube of toothpaste?” he asked. No big deal.

I warned him in advance that I might forget my new resolution and asked for his patience with me as I changed. He told me no problem, when I forgot to put the cap on or didn’t properly attach it, he would attach it VERY tightly when he put it on for me. And that was the end of that.

Both of us know there are a lot bigger issues to worry about in marriage and life than toothpaste tubes and caps; you have to pick your battles, and most aren’t worth the hassle or the fight. (Just “little” things like nurturing love, companionship, friendship, unity, kindness, respect, working together, cooperating, compromising, health, employment, raising children, blending families, serving others, making a difference in the world for the better and a host of other things.) Who really cares about toothpaste?

We also know this: ”You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube.” (H.R. Haldeman) There’s no sense crying over spilled milk. “The course of true love never did run smooth.” (Williams Shakespeare) And, “Second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience.”

A Mixture of Pleasure and Pain

Date: May 23, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“This moment in time, on this tour, you know, I’m discovering a lot of new things. And to be 45 and doing that, it’s a mixture of pleasure and pain, I can assure you.” (Eric Clapton)

I’m not 45 years old, but this week marks my three-month wedding anniversary; cause to reflect on my current “tour,” remarriage, and to evaluate my experience thus far–as in where we’ve been and where we’re headed.

I remember back to the “good old days” of being engaged. I don’t know how it all came across in the blog, but the reality of it was not 9 1/2 months of bliss, carefree romance and starry eyes and nights despite the many great moments we shared. In actuality, it was the majority of  one year spent getting to know one another even better, preparing to unite not just ourselves but our families, and of challenges, confronting issues and resolving them–and when you’re talking remarriage, you’re dealing with all of the aforementioned stuff to an even greater degree than a first marriage. In fact, there was so much to work through, #5 used to joke that marriage would be easy compared to being engaged and that there was nothing we wouldn’t know about one another by the time we got married.

I think I thought #5 meant being married would be “easier” and with less to work through than our engagement and that because we knew each other so well, there wouldn’t be any surprises or a period of adjustment to one another after our wedding. (You know, for being this old and somewhat experienced in life and marriage–having been married 20 years to someone else prior to marrying #5–you’d think I’d be a lot brighter than I am!) But boy, was I wrong.

I realized, again, that you never truly know someone until you live with them and in life, and especially the remarriage aspect of the unexpected one, it seems like there is always something to work through or resolve!

I’m a hopeless romantic. (I’ll confess that right here and now in case that has happened to escape the attention of anyone reading this blog.) I went into remarriage with my usual rose-colored optimism and romantic ideals of perfection.  And while my remarriage is wonderful, there have been a few moments of challenge (if I’m being honest.) Moments spent in resolving issues. And the truth, in my experience and based on what I’ve learned from premarital counselors and others who have lived through or are living through the remarriage experience, is that approximately 80% of issues, conflict, and anything else that needs to be worked out can usually be related directly to money, children and/or former spouses. (Which shouldn’t be THAT surprising, since statistics show most first marriage difficulties arise over money and children, too.)

One day, in the middle of an “issue resolution” I joked that despite all the premarital counselor had tried to prepare me for, remarriage was a lot more difficult than I’d anticipated. That stopped #5 in his tracks. He looked at me in all seriousness and said, “Really? I thought it was going to be a LOT worse than this! I thought it was going to be much harder than this! I’m actually amazed at how well everything is going and how few problems we have compared to what I expected.”

That stopped ME in MY tracks. I was stunned. “Wait, you thought it was going to be WORSE than this…and you married me anyway?” I asked.

“Absolutely, and I’d do it again,” he clarified.

THAT sums up the remarriage experience for me, as well as the unexpected life.

It can be a stretch to feel like an old dog learning new tricks in your 40s. A mixture of pain, growing pains, as you learn and grow through the new opportunities you’re blessed with as well as plenty of pleasure, like when your new husband tells you, despite the challenges, issues and the work required to resolve them, that it’s even better than he expected, that he loves you and that he’d do it all over again. For you.

Second marriage moment #12.

“Forever can never be long enough for me, To feel like I’ve had long enough with you…Marry Me, Today and Every day, Marry Me…say you will.” (Train, “Marry Me”)

I love it when #5 hums, sings, says that or plays it for me on XM Radio “The Coffee House” channel.

The Unexpected Life.