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Bachelor #5

Date: August 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I met him online.

He contacted me, told me a little about himself in his email, asked me questions about myself and I replied with the answers. This went on for several weeks, VERY different from my other online experiences. Some men contacted me for the first time and asked me out for that very night. Not Bachelor #5.

He was a nice man. A good person. My same faith. A father of four. A college graduate. A responsible citizen. Employed. A home owner. Smart. Talented. Musical. Had been married 20 years. A man with interests and hobbies. Accomplished. A man with a life. (He was busy!) He even had ties to Hawaii.

After many emails, I made a joke about us meeting in person. But he didn’t joke back. He told me he found it best to get to know each other really well before meeting.

I couldn’t believe how much we had in common. He’d share something about himself and most times, I would have had a similar experience. Poor man. He probably wondered if I was competing with his accomplishments! But when he told me he’d been on the BYU Folk Dance Team, I had to shake my head and laugh. I’d even done that too!

In the meantime, while he emailed me a couple times each week, he kept busy with his work, with his passion for theater (not just attending shows, singing and performing in them!), spending time with his children, taking care of his youngest child who lived with him, living his very full life–even traveling to Hawaii.

I kept myself occupied too: full-time job, four children, my life, and working my way through the list of bachelors, some of whom I’ve written about.

Searching high and low for “Mr. Awesome.”

Searching for that happy ending I thought I’d had but refused to give up on in spite of a Ponzi scheme, betrayal, divorce and total life change.

And then unexpectedly, one day I got another email from Bachelor #5.

Inviting me to dinner.

Good Men Aren’t Jell-o!

Date: August 21, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“There are much easier things in life than finding a good man–nailing Jell-o to a tree, for instance.” (Author Unknown)

Don’t get me wrong. There are a lot of good men out there, I’m just thinking that many of them (most of them?) are already married! Thus the “long” list of bachelors I’ve compiled in my quest for a happy ending.

I’ve met some good men along the way. I’ve learned something from each new friend I’ve made. And interestingly, I even think most of them have helped me on the path to healing in one way or another, some much more than others.

However, after just two months of dating, I was tired of it. I had absolutely loved being single the first time. In fact, when I married in 1989, a part of me was sad to leave my single life. But not the second time around. Although I had determined to make the most of the situation I had been thrust in, and tried to look for the positive and attempted to make myself like it, after a couple of months I realized it wasn’t working. Given the choice, I would have chosen to be married to the right man rather than be single. The newness of it all, the “excitement” (if that’s what you call being unexpectedly single and forced to meet new people in your new life) had worn off.

I was simply a divorced mother of four who had never planned or expected to be in that position.

Now, many months later, the dreaded “I’ve gotten used to it” has transpired. Just what I didn’t want to have happen! But I guess you can say that about many aspects of the unexpected life. It is who I am. I don’t cringe when people realize I’m single (and divorced) and wonder what they’re thinking about me any more. I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m divorced. It is what it is.

I’ve had to completely leave my comfort zone and face life, and everything else, alone. I’ve learned to socialize by myself again. I’m happy. And believe it or not, there are even things I’ll miss about my single life should my situation ever change. I NEVER expected to say that!

I’ve also learned that life goes on. I don’t advocate divorce by any means, and I am a strong defender, despite my experience, of marriage and family. But I’ve learned the world doesn’t end when a marriage does. I still have my own little family. And despite the scar of divorce, we’re doing so well and feeling so whole, that on the infrequent occasion when someone refers to my family as “broken,” it surprises me. I don’t think of us as that way. Different than we once were, but NOT “broken!”

Yet I keep pressing forward in dating despite being tired of it. I tell myself I’m lucky. After all, not every woman gets to meet new people (handsome men), date them, and everything else attendant with the unexpected and single life. (That’s the PR spin I put on my situation for myself to motivate me not to quit or give up too soon. I just have to keep telling myself I believe it, too!)

So, in the spirit of pressing forward, let me tell you about another man.

Bachelor #5.

And I’m pretty sure he is NOT a fan of Jell-o.

The Irony of The Search

Date: August 17, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Be careful going in search of adventure – it’s ridiculously easy to find.” (William Least Heat-Moon)

It’s ironic that we ever met, my birth mother and I.

After we found each other via Facebook, she told me of her 10 year search. She had done everything she could think of to find me, but with no success. (We discovered she’d been given fake names for my parents, among other incorrect information when I was born.) And although she had listed her information on several registries that specialize in uniting birth parents and their children, I hadn’t heard of any of them. I wasn’t registered anywhere. I’d never planned to find her.

But for being thrust into my unexpected life and finally feeling the need for my medical history, we probably never would have found each other. And we certainly never would have met but for an impulsive act.

Years ago, she had the impression I knew who she was, where she was and that I had chosen not to contact her because I was happy and doing well. (That was true. I’d known her address since approximately 1997 and had never acted on the information.) She held to that belief, continued living her life, until early December 2009 when she fasted, prayed and meditated that she would find me.

When she got on Facebook weeks after that to check her inbox, she was stunned to see I had sent my impulsive message 2-3 days after her meditation!

“You know, I’ve often thought if I were much older, I might not have done that…As you get older, you get more conservative, but I was still young enough to be a little bit impulsive.” (Kirk Douglas)

And I’d been thinking I was old, too old, an “old bag!” Thank goodness I was still “young” enough to be impulsive about something. You’ll never guess what I think I have to thank for that: my unexpected life.

I’ve seen firsthand that you can do everything “right,” you can do everything in your power to achieve one specific outcome, you can be on course and living your dream but you still may end up with a completely different life– maybe even a life you didn’t necessarily want when it initially became yours. Starting over unexpectedly. Seeking to create a new life out of the ashes of the old. Finding new dreams.

And it’s ok.

I’ve learned it IS possible to start over even when you think you’re old. It IS possible to dig yourself out of the darkest disaster. It IS possible to have faith, hope and trust a lot more and to choose to worry a lot less. It IS possible to create a new life and to dream new and different dreams than you ever have before. And it IS possible to be equally happy in the new and unexpected life; maybe even happier.

I’m living proof of that.

Thanks to my unexpected life.

MAC Lipstick And One Water Ski

Date: August 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Our relationship continues.

Every time we talk, text or see each other, she continues be so friendly, kind, patient and loving. She hugs me. She doesn’t miss a chance to express her love and gratitude for me. She shares her perspective and experience with me. She isn’t afraid to tell me, honestly, what she thinks. She is accepting of everyone. She is beautiful inside and out. She is a positive force for good in the world, in my life and for my children.

We’re getting to know each other. We even had our first “sleep over” last month, just she and I–going to dinner, soaking in a hot mineral tub at The Homestead and chatting about anything and everything until late at night.

My children are getting to know her and getting used to her. The first time they met her, they stared at her. A lot. I couldn’t figure out what their problem was, but every time I’d look at my two oldest children, they’d be raising their eyebrows at each other or laughing. On the way home, I asked them what was so funny.

My oldest son said, “Mom, it’s like you two are the SAME person! You do EVERYTHING alike. It’s uncanny!” And he listed the many similarities he had observed in the short time he’d spent with her–right down to the way we both speak, to the way we get side-tracked in a conversation, to the way we talk with our hands (even on the phone), to the way we both have to have lipstick on all of the time, to the way we apply our lipstick in the same way,multi-tasking, while we drive a car! (To the fact that both of us carry and use MAC lipstick without the lids–we lose them.)

“I drive with my knees. Otherwise, how can I put on my lipstick and talk on my phone?” (Sharon Stone)

Although we have our differences.

My birth mother took me out in her boat the other weekend. She is 66 years old now, still really trim and very fit and athletic. She easily got up on one ski (something I’ve never been able to do), skied all around the reservoir (I’ve never been able to do that–I crash before I make it that far!), and then took one foot out of the ski so she could do stunt poses while the boat towed her. (Something I’ve never thought to do and wouldn’t be able to even if I wanted to!)

When she held on to the tow rope with her toes to free her hands so she could do even bigger stunt poses, I had to shake my head in awe. I thought everyone had been joking when they told me she’d water ski with her toes given the chance! Nope.

Clearly, I got ripped off in the genetics of water skiing department!

But that’s ok. She has two skis in her boat. And apparently, I’ll be the only one using two skis as I maintain a death grip on the tow rope…with BOTH hands.

“How about that? That squirrel can water ski.” (Ron Burgundy aka. Will Ferrell, “Anchorman“)

Another Drive

Date: August 9, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

She asked me if I was willing and available to meet in person.

I told her I was open to anything she was, so she invited me to her home that weekend. I felt bad that it was so “last minute,” I didn’t want to disrupt any plans she may have had, and offered to meet any time in the coming month or even later than that if that was better for her. She said no, that was too long. She didn’t want to wait that long.

And with counsel from her to refrain from forming any judgements about her prior to meeting in person, we set the time, and the next day I found myself driving to her home.

It was a very unique experience, that drive. My entire life I’d lived one existence, then it had radically changed in 2009, and it was about to change AGAIN in some way, to some degree. I tried to process it all as I drove. I could not picture or imagine what was in store for me.

“How weird it was to drive streets I knew so well. What a different perspective.” (Suzanne Vega)

I had 40 minutes to think. To wonder. I put music on to try to quell my thoughts but it didn’t change the fact that I was thinking about everything. A lot. Now, I just had background music!

“The real trouble with reality is that there’s no background music.” (“Witty Quotes Haven,” Clever Quotes #2)

As I drove, accompanied by background music, trying not to think yet thoughts racing, scenes from my life replayed over and over in my mind. I tried to picture the next scene. But somehow, I just couldn’t.

All I could do was keep driving.

There’s More

Date: August 4, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The marvels of daily life are exciting; no movie director can arrange the unexpected that you find in the street.” (Robert Doisneau)

I’ve probably said it before but if someone had told me a year ago all that was in store for me and the life that would be mine today, I would have laughed at them. I would have thought they were absolutely looney. Completely crazy.

Such is the unexpected life.

I don’t think Hollywood could have scripted a more unexpected plot, antagonists (some of them) and twists and turns in a single experience, than I’ve been blessed with. And the one thing I can say for it all: it has been not only unexpected but exciting. (I’m not talking about the exciting, looking forward to Christmas morning kind of thrill; I’m talking the terrifying exciting of a heart attack-inducing roller coaster ride when the earth drops out from under you, you lose your stomach, scream and plummet unexpectedly to a new place on the track.)

I certainly never anticipated or would have arranged for the “excitement” that found my life. And honestly, the revelation of a Ponzi scheme and my divorce were just the beginning. There’s more to my unexpected life than a Ponzi scheme, a prison sentence, a divorce, re-entering the singles scene, stalkers, “starting over” in my 40s, returning to the work force full-time, and providing for and raising four children alone.

Quite a bit more.

Here it comes.

Farewell To Joe

Date: August 2, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I have to take a break from the unexpected life, single scene, dating, dances, and men to pay homage to an important member of my family I’ve never written about.

Joe.

Our dog.

A gigantic white lab (more like a miniature horse) with the best looking dog face I’ve ever seen. In fact, when my oldest son saw the movie “Marley and Me” his only comment was that our dog was much better looking than the movie’s star! Our canine star, however, hated water, was afraid of a lot of things, but tried to protect us by barking a fierce bark (yet gave himself away with a tail that never quit wagging.) He LOVED all people!

When our world fell apart in 2009, and our unexpected life began, believe it or not, in addition to all of the worries I was trying to balance, I was worried about our dog. I didn’t know where we would be living (much less if our living situation would be conducive to a dog), I didn’t know what we’d be eating (much less if we’d be able to afford dog food) and I knew we really couldn’t afford a dog, but I just felt I had to do everything in my power to allow my children to keep their pet. They were losing everything else and as crazy as it may sound to some, I hoped and prayed, for my children’s sake, that they wouldn’t have to lose their dog too!

We were blessed to end up in a home in Utah with a fenced backyard. So my children kept their dog for awhile. And then Joe developed a health condition that had no guaranteed fix. Our only choice was to free him from the extreme pain he was in. And as the only adult in my little family, it fell to me to take him to the veterinary clinic that final time.

I have always dreaded a moment like that.

Just when I thought we were healed, we had to lose our Marley.

In the terrible moments of 2009, in the height of my despair and when there was nothing I could do but endure my pain, sometimes I just had to get away from my life. A couple of times, when it was THAT bad, I jumped in the car and drove the country roads near my old neighborhood. Sometimes I simply had to get away from the stranger I had allowed to remain in my home, quickly, and so late at night I’d go outside to be alone.

I’d sit outside in the pitch black dark and mourn my losses. I mourned the end of the only life I had known as an adult. I’d worry myself sick about the future and all that lay ahead. I’d cry. I’d pray. I felt more alone than I imagined it was possible to feel. And then, in the midst of the pain of my grieving (and wallowing in my misery) I’d hear a thump and find a giant white head attached to a wet black nose in my lap. Despite how I felt, another manifestation that I wasn’t alone.

Joe. There for me. In the literal and figurative darkness of my new unexpected life.

That was all I could think about as drove to the clinic and as I sat in the examination room the last few moments of Joe’s life.

My oldest son was with me too. As we sat in the room, he looked at me with tears streaming down his cheeks and told me how Joe had been there for him always, but especially during the terrible events of last year, when my son didn’t know what he was going to do or how our new and unexpected life could be his. He told me how he’d lay on his bedroom floor by Joe and cry. And how Joe had helped him carry on.

Boy, Joe was a busy dog. Especially last year. I’d had no idea all that he had been up to.

Joe was there for me. Joe was there for my oldest son. Joe was there for all of my children when they needed him. And in the end, although I couldn’t be there for him to miraculously save his life (like I felt he deserved after all he’d done for me), my oldest son and I were there for him as he departed.

Sometimes I hate being an adult and having to make adult decisions. But it’s a part of life.

Another unexpected aspect of my farewell to Joe was the thought of another person who flashed across my mind in those final moments. I couldn’t believe it. It will probably make me look psychotic, but this blog is my attempt to share the whole truth and nothing but the truth of my unexpected life. So here goes.

I thought of Him.

Shawn Merriman.

And this is what I thought: “I should hate him for putting me in this position. For making it so I have to endure this, too.”

I couldn’t believe it had been one year and He came to mind. You remember your former spouse at the oddest and most unexpected moments. At least, I did. And then, just as quickly, I pushed that thought out of my mind.

I went into this whole unexpected life determined not to hate and I still feel that way. I believe it’s the right thing to do.

Life. It’s unexpected. There’s nothing better. And yet, there’s nothing more difficult, at times, too.

All I know is that you have to keep looking for the good. You must keep counting your blessings. You have to forgive. You can’t hate. And you must keep pressing forward and carrying on, ideally, with a smile.

I Interrupt This Blog

Date: August 1, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

To anyone who grew up in the 1970s-1980s: Do you remember those tests of the emergency broadcast system?

Right in the middle of a good song on the radio, or a fun television show, the song would silence or the screen would switch to a rainbow of colors and that irritating beeping noise would fill the air! It lasted forever, it seemed (to me) and then the voice would conclude the whole ordeal by thanking you for your participation. (Like we had a choice!) Then the song or t.v. show would return.

I didn’t enjoy those tests. So I apologize in advance, but I have to do the same thing to my blog.

Get ready!

BEEP!

I interrupt this blog for a very important announcement!

My blog is a bit behind the “real time” of my life. I’m trying to catch up as quickly as I can to the present day. However, something very unexpected happened recently and I can’t not share it.

Last weekend I was at a Sunday evening singles meeting. I was asked to play the organ. Over the pulpit, the man conducting the meeting thanked Andrea Merriman for helping with the music. After the program was over, as I sat waiting for the crowd to disperse so I could leave, a woman approached. She walked toward me with a huge smile and said, “Andrea Merriman!”

I looked at her, trying to place her face. She seemed very nice, but not at all familiar. My first thought was, “This person knows me! Did I grow up with her and I just don’t recognize her? Is she a friend-of-a-friend I’ve met and I can’t remember?”

But before I could place her, she clarified, “Are you Andrea Merriman of…The Blog?”

I admitted my connection to andreamerriman.com, she smiled and said, “I knew it! When they announced your name I wondered if it was you, so I had to come and meet you! I love you!” She put her arms around me and hugged me. An instant friend.

Because of a blog.

She could not have been friendlier or nicer. She gave me her name and contact information and told me we are going to do something social, as friends. I can’t believe it! It has been a long time since I’ve been invited to do something with a girl friend!

I met a new friend!

After our encounter I realized a couple of things.

First, what an amazing world blogging is! How grateful I am for the connections we make through them. To stay in touch with friends, get back in touch with old friends, and even to connect with new friends we haven’t met yet is an astounding bonus of blogging I’d never imagined.

Second, for what seems like the first time since my unexpected life began, someone said my name, Andrea Merriman. And I didn’t wince, cringe in fear, feel sick to my stomach, or want to hide! It hit me after my new friend left that I’d “forgotten” to feel afraid when someone said my name.

Somehow, I’ve been able to let go of that part of Andrea Merriman. The part I was so ashamed of for far too long as I was thrust into my unexpected life. I don’t know how, all I know is it’s gone.

The healing power of blogging is something I never expected. I guess it has been my self-therapy. Maybe putting myself out there on my terms, instead of the media, Ponzi scheme victims and hostile former clients of Shawn Merriman doing it for me, has something to do with it. (Not that they don’t have a right to be angry, I’ve just never understood their passion for persecuting me because of the actions of someone else.)

So whatever the reason, all I know is that I forgot to be afraid to be recognized. I didn’t even think to be.

I am back to the old me, the original me–Andrea Merriman.

Ironic, that they’re both spelled the same yet the feelings they engender within me are so dramatically different.

So, sorry for the interruption. Thank you for your patience. I just HAD to share that I met a blog reader! In person! A new friend!

Very unexpected.

But such a thrilling aspect of…the unexpected life!

“Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me.” (Carl Sandburg)

That night, that new friend, is certainly one of them.

Until It Happened To Me

Date: July 31, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

The second singles dance I went to I met a new (female) friend who was my height, close to my age, and was fun to hang out with. We had a great time and became instant friends.

I wasn’t the only one who liked her.

That night, the MEN, liked her too. Old men. They all looked like grandpas to me, but she was very nice about it. She got asked to dance every song by different men clearly older than us, and was friendly to all of them. She had the magic that night!

After each dance, she’d return to the sideline with a dinner date set with the previous partner. I bet she got asked out by five or more men that night! I couldn’t believe it.

Who has that happen to them?

I was concerned about the age of her suitors until she told me the man she currently had a crush on and dated was in his 60s–that after two failed marriages she was ready for a good, mature man. He was in her church congregation, she sat by him every Sunday, and they went out on the weekends–she was just frustrated that she couldn’t get him to only date her. Thus, she had gone to a singles dance to meet men. I give her an A+ for effort! I’ve never seen anything like that.

And I didn’t believe dances like that happened to single women…until it happened to me.

The next month I went to a singles dance with a male friend. I danced with him quite a bit, but every time he or I took a break, a senior citizen man would ask me to dance…and then during the dance, asked me to dinner on a date! I got three invitations from three men who had grandchildren the ages of my children.

When it came time to go home, two were hanging around offering to drive me home.

My friend I’d gone to the dance with and I sort of had a system. We dated, we even went to dances together sometimes, but we danced with other people too (if someone caught our eye) and when the dance was over we both hung back until the other one was alone and ready to go.

My problem that night, aside from all those senior citizens, was that my friend kept hanging back because men were around me and talking to me, and all I wanted to do was leave! It took him awhile to figure that out, but finally, he caught on to my desire to escape and we got to leave in peace!

The next couple of weeks I fielded lots of phone calls and dinner offers from elderly gentlemen, but in the end, I had to admit that the 55+ crowd was just a little old for me.

It was an interesting experience to have “the magic” for just one night.

I couldn’t help but remember how I felt heading into my single life, newly divorced, feeling like an old bag, sure no one would ever want me or date me or desire to spend time with me–and although the men that “magical” evening were way too old for me, It was very nice of anyone to say they wanted to spend more time with me.

In a way, though, it made me feel like a teenager again. Those lovely years of boys I wasn’t interested in calling me and asking me to “go with them” and me trying to politely decline. Those years of never having the boy I liked like me at the same time!

After a total life change I had to shake my head and laugh that apparently some things NEVER change: the magic never seems to strike the one you want it to–or you and the one you want at the same time!

It’s so true. “Just because everything is different doesn’t mean anything has changed.” (Irene Peter)

Bachelor #30: It’s A Too Small World

Date: July 30, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to have to paint it.” (Stephen Wright)

I love Disney. Anything Disney. I love “It’s a Small World.” But Bachelor #30 made my world a little too small.

I met him online. And it turns out, he had grown up in the same area as one family of my cousins, and knew my uncle very well. Turns out he had also dated, had been “practically engaged,” to one of my good friends from Denver I’d known the previous 20 years prior to her marriage to the man I knew as her husband!

He was smart, interesting, introspective, thoughtful, fit, loved to dance, had a great job, a very nice extended family, one son, was a great father, and an almost overly cordial relationship with his ex-wife.

But despite how great he was, I had a couple of concerns.

First, his marital history. He had married in his late 30s (and would never actually reveal the exact age he had married; he always acted like he couldn’t quite remember how old he was–who doesn’t know how old they were when they married?) He was married less than 5 years and then divorced (and would never actually reveal how long he had been divorced; he always acted like he couldn’t quite remember–who doesn’t know how long they’ve been divorced?)

The fact that he was 48 years old and had really only spent 5 years of his life married concerned me. I didn’t think that demonstrated enough flexibility and history to take on a my family like mine some day!

Second, he traveled the world for work a lot. He was gone for three weeks to one month at a time. I was married to a man who had traveled for “work” a lot. I had spent a lot of time alone and decided the next time around, that I wanted something different the next time. (I’m not only looking for a partner for me, due to the circumstances of my divorce, I am also looking for someone who will be a father to my children. It’s hard to be that when you’re gone a lot of the time.)

And last of all, I felt our common associations made my world a little bit too small!

“It’s a small world, but we all run in big circles.” (Sasha Azevedo)

So long, Bachelor #30.

The circles are getting exhausting.