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You’ve Got To Smell A Lot Of Manure Before…

Date: September 27, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“You got to have smelt a lot of mule manure before you can sing like a hillbilly.” (Hank Williams)

Bachelor #5 is a self-described oldest child and a “planner.” So am I, although sometimes Bachelor #5 makes me look like a disorganized, fly-by-the-seat-of-my pants hippie compared to him.

Nowhere was this more evident than the time we shared our first “intense discussion.” Although it wasn’t a fight, it was probably the closest thing we’ve ever come to fighting about anything. It was over the dumbest thing, especially for this age and stage of our lives, but isn’t that how most “intense discussions” are? Over silly things?

It must be our oldest child, “planning” natures…because our discussion was regarding death, funerals, and where to be buried–even though we’re both healthy forty-somethings who SO don’t need to worry about that right now. Ridiculous!

But who says every courtship conversation has to be sensible? If that’s in the rules of dating, Bachelor #5 and I both missed it.

It began one night while driving to see a play. Somehow the topic of where to buried after we died came up. We had very different ideas about it. And for some reason, like mules, we both dug our heels in. I can’t think of another time we’ve done that, but like I said, it was an intense conversation. Let the braying begin!

Some highlights. Just to reinforce my mule status (and Bachelor #5′s, too.) Not in any order…

He (patiently) said it was a good thing we didn’t have to make a decision about that now. I said it was a good thing it came up before we got engaged, or married, because it was a total deal breaker for me. He looked at me, in shock, and asked, “You seriously wouldn’t marry me over a difference of opinion on where to be buried?” Like a mule, I said, “Oh, yes. Absolutely!” (Round one went to me. Hee-haw!)

He said it was a second marriage, so who dictated we had to be buried together? He said we could each do what we wanted. That hurt my feelings and made me feel as though he thought a remarriage wasn’t as important as a first marriage. And I couldn’t believe he’d want to be buried somewhere other than beside me! (I declare Bachelor #5 the winner/mule of round two. Hee-haw! Hee-haw!)

Ironically, in the debate I was holding out for tiny Ephraim, Utah, where my parents and ancestors are buried as my final resting place–even though I have never even lived there! For some reason, I was kicking against the pricks for all I was worth. (I have to give myself additional mule points for that.)

We discontinued the discussion, sort of agreed to disagree, and enjoyed the remainder of the evening. But I couldn’t believe how stubborn I’d been about something so silly. The more I thought about it, the more embarrassed I became about my stubbornness. What had I been thinking?

When I saw Bachelor #5 the next night, I brought it up again to apologize, and as soon as I opened my mouth, Bachelor #5 did the same thing: I told him I didn’t know why I made such a big deal about that and was so stubborn about a place I’ve never even lived, I just wanted to be with him; Bachelor #5 said he didn’t care where he was buried, he just wanted to be with me–but also added he had been trying to show me that other families, besides the Christensen family, love their traditions and are as steeped in their heritage as I am in mine!

However, I recently discovered that issue is not completely over. Last week the subject of funerals came up. Don’t ask me how. We really do talk about many other things that are not death-related. In fact, to my recollection, we’ve only had two death-related discussions ever–and I’m blogging about both of them.

Bachelor #5 felt very strongly about some things, of which I feel strongly in exactly the opposite direction, and I could sense another hillbilly conversation coming. So could Bachelor #5, because he said, “I can be flexible on where to be buried, do whatever you want, but I will not negotiate on THIS.”

To which I jokingly asked if a disclaimer could be printed on his funeral program stating I had nothing to do with, and no control over, the program! We both laughed. And knowing Bachelor #5…he has probably already written the disclaimer and filed it away for future reference.

Hee-haw! Hee-haw!

Apparently, you’ve got to smell a lot of mule manure before you can sing like a hillbilly or…before you get an engagement ring.

The Ring II

Date: September 26, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“There’s only a short walk from the hallelujah to the hoot.” (William Kennedy)

And then one day, Bachelor #5 got a call from the jewelry store. From my perspective, it felt like we’d been waiting so long the phone call was slightly unexpected. The ring was in! (Does anyone besides me hear a chorus of unseen angels singing something akin to, “Hallelujah?”)

That was the good news.

Unfortunately, there was bad news as well. Upon inspection, the ring hadn’t met the jeweler’s expectation of quality, so he had sent it back to be re-made!

No ring.

I believe some things are worth waiting for. And that’s a good thing. Because I was going to continue to need some practice, and patience, along those lines. Stay tuned.

“All good things arrive unto them that wait – and don’t die in the meantime.” (Mark Twain)

Things Are Much Easier

Date: September 25, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I don’t think I’ll get married again. I’ll just find a woman I don’t like and give her a house.” (Lewis Grizzard)

Speaking of getting married again, Bachelor #5 and I made a return visit to the therapist. Some things I remember from that session:

The counselor told us of all the couples he had met and worked with regarding remarriage, he thought Bachelor #5 and I had the greatest chance of “making it.” He told us his money was on us to marry, hang in there, and make it work.

But he also opened my eyes to all kinds of potential issues related to remarriage and stepparent situations. I wasn’t a fan of what I heard. My shock must have shown on my face because he stopped and asked me how I felt. I said, “I don’t like it.”

The counselor asked, “What don’t you like?”

“Everything!” I replied. “I don’t like divorce. I was never supposed to be divorced and dealing with stuff like this. Why can’t we all just look for the good, be happy, and enjoy our opportunity–the more the merrier?”

He laughed at my optimism. Or was it my naivety?

He asked Bachelor #5 what he thought. Bachelor #5 said he didn’t anticipate all of the usual challenges when he remarried because his children were older and his ex-wife had already remarried and divorced a second time. The counselor smiled and said it didn’t matter; Bachelor #5 could and should expect some difficulties.

It has been four months since that counseling appointment. And every single thing the counselor warned us about has come to pass. Thank goodness I participated in premarital counseling and had my eyes opened. Sometimes things are much easier to deal with when you know what’s coming.

“If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do, and how to do it.” (Abraham Lincoln)

Speaking of Counseling

Date: September 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Speaking of counseling, here’s a joke:

A husband and wife were at a party chatting with some friends when the object of marriage counseling came up.

“Oh, we’ll never need that,” the wife explained. “My husband and I have a great relationship. He was a communications major in college and I majored in theater arts. He communicates real well and I just act like I’m listening.”

The funniest part? I majored in communications in college…and Bachelor #5 is into theater.

Hmmm.

And now, on to the report of our counseling session experience. It was…unexpected. But not for the reasons you might think!

The Ring

Date: September 20, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.” (Albert Einstein)

Bachelor #5 persevered. He stuck with his problem (me–Lol) a little longer. He took me to more stores. I found bands that I sort of liked, but nothing that felt right. They were all just ok. I didn’t know what I was looking for or what I expected, and maybe I was being unreasonable about the whole thing, but felt that if I was going to get a ring, it needed to feel “right.” And was that even possible for me to feel, the second time around, at my age and after all I’d been through?

I only knew that the first time I’d married, the wedding dress had been the dilemma. Until that moment. The moment I stepped into a dress and my mom and I looked at each other, stunned, and said, at the same time, “THIS is the dress!” I looked completely transformed in it. I fell in love with it. And I guess I was expecting MY ring to hit me in the same way.

The saga of the quest for an engagement/wedding ring continued. The bright side was that at least we’d narrowed the search for a band that would serve as my engagement ring and wedding band. Now we just had to find it.

We went to several more stores and found nothing. And then one day we went to a little family-owned jewelry store to look at their selection. Nothing. And then the man said, “Wait. I think I might have the perfect ring for you. Of course, it would have to be made. But what do you think of this?”

He showed me a picture. It appeared to be everything I’d been looking for and had imagined for myself. But I was nervous about committing to it based on a picture. The man told me not to worry, ordered a sample and we returned to the store to look at it when it came in.

I put it on. In that instant I knew. It was the band for me. It was MY ring.

After all of my hesitation and unwillingness to choose a ring, even look at rings, much less wear a ring, I would have taken it and worn it then and there without worrying about how to pay for it (and without even being officially proposed to!) I loved it.

I left the store feeling a slight sense of loss that my ring had yet to be created. The wait was on.

But there’s always a lot of other stuff to keep you busy and occupied. Especially in the unexpected life.

In my case, Bachelor #5 had yet to propose; we had to blend two families. And trust me, none of that is as easy as it sounds.

“Frogs have it easy, they can eat what bugs them.”

As Simple As That

Date: September 17, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“My mother says I didn’t open my eyes for eight days after I was born, but when I did, the first thing I saw was an engagement ring. I was hooked.” (Elizabeth Taylor)

He’d been telling me for quite awhile he’d marry me tomorrow if I were willing. I had eventually responded by saying, “It’s time.”

I was happy, calm and content–absolutely willing to enjoy that state of being for awhile. When I’d uttered those two words, I hadn’t envisioned moving forward with anything beyond that in the near future. Life had been moving pretty fast for me; I was ready for a “breather!”

However, a few days later while driving down the road, Bachelor #5 threw in the phrase, “And then we’ll go ring shopping if we have time.” If I had been the one driving the car, it would have come to a screeching halt right at that moment. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The thought of setting foot in a jewelry store and shopping for an engagement ring, at my age, was something I’d never thought of or planned on!

I’m not sure why. I wish I could say I handled it well, but that would be less than truthful. Thankfully, we didn’t get around to it for a few more days. But that didn’t make it any easier for me. I was slightly slower to convert to the idea than, say, Elizabeth Taylor.

But Bachelor #5 didn’t give up. He remained patient and calm through the whole process. (And it WAS a process.)

We entered the first jewelry store together. An innocent young salesman approached. I don’t think he had any idea what he was in for. But neither did I.

I don’t know the typical female response to ring shopping, but I wasn’t sitting down and anxious to look at any rings or try any on, and I certainly wasn’t gushing over anything that sparkled. I’d never gone ring shopping, or looked at diamonds, in my entire life. I didn’t know much.

I was finally persuaded to try on a setting that I didn’t love, but I had to start somewhere to appease Bachelor #5 and the clerk. With the setting on my finger, the clerk dropped an assortment of loose diamonds into the center of it for me to look at. I didn’t know if it was the size of the diamonds or my age (aka. poor eyesight) but I had a hard time seeing the diamonds very well. Everything seemed so small. I said to the clerk, “I’m sorry. But these diamonds all seem so small. I think you’re going to have to show me some diamonds that are at least a karat. Yes, at my age, I think I need at least a karat.”

The salesman replied, “Ma’am, all of the stones I’m showing you are LARGER than a karat; in fact, most of them are close to two karats!” (See? I told you I didn’t know anything.)

I knew then and there I was fighting a battle I couldn’t win because I didn’t even have a clue what the rules were! We left without buying anything. And the only decision I’d arrived at after that ring shopping experience, was that I didn’t want a diamond ring.

I hated ring shopping. The things men “make” women do. Lol.

“Men are like a deck of cards, you need a heart to love ‘em, a diamond to marry ‘em, a club to beat ‘em and a spade to bury ‘em.”

If only it were as simple as that.

It’s Time

Date: September 14, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

It’s time. The two words Bachelor #5 (and many of the rest of you) have been waiting to hear. So today, I write them. But not about what you may think. (Sorry!)

The “chick flick” portion of my unexpected life has come to a screeching halt this day. I now put my story on hold because it IS time…for something else. It’s time for the sentencing of my former spouse.

September 14, 2010.

Just four days short of 18 months since the day my unexpected life began due to the revelation of His fraudulent business dealings, Ponzi scheme and crimes. On that day He revealed everything to me, March 18, 2009, and told me He had already turned himself in to the government and our church authorities and that He anticipated being charged for what He had done within 7-10 days, and taken into custody to begin serving a prison sentence less than 30 days from that day. But things never seem to happen how you plan or expect them to, especially in crime. Especially in life.

Instead, He was free to “come and go” (which drove the neighbor victims crazy, but what can I say? There is a lot to not understand about crime, other than it is wrong!) and take care of what He could, wrapping up the details of His former life for several months as He prepared for a new one: prison inmate.

In the meantime, the divorce I filed for became final and my children and I moved to Utah and began living our new life.

Late August 2009 He was taken into custody to await His sentencing and has been residing in Jefferson County Jail in Golden, CO, for over one year. And unexpectedly, it is suddenly, finally, here.

He doesn’t know the time of the sentencing hearing. He anticipates He will be awakened at 3 a.m. and taken to a holding cell by 3:15 a.m. to await transportation to His hearing. He will spend time in the holding cell with many other men who have broken the law, all confined in one little space, waiting to be shackled and transported to the courtrooms in which judges will decide how long the next phase of their lives, incarceration, will be.

I can’t imagine being in a place like that, surrounded by people who have done all manner of reprehensible things. I am actually terrified at the thought, so when He called me collect for one final conversation prior to the sentencing I asked Him, “What will you do while you wait in the holding cell? Do you keep your head down and try not to draw attention to yourself?” (It was my best guess, based on the Hollywood movies and t.v. shows I’ve seen.)

He said, “No, I’ll probably try to get some sleep.”

He offered one last apology regarding the choices He made and the things He did with His life which thrust my children and I into consequences and a life we did nothing to earn. It was one last opportunity for Him to express His sorrow and remorse for His choices and He reiterated to me, again, His desire and willingness to do anything He could to help me and to do what is best for our children, whatever I feel that may be. And as usual, I have no response to that. I honestly don’t know what is best.

I’m just Andrea from Colorado, who never bargained for any part of my unexpected life. I never imagined a situation like the one that has become mine. I simply seek inspiration at every turn, guidance to know what to do, and attempt to remain patient and take the high road at every opportunity, hoping and praying I’ll be blessed as to how to best help my children when they, and I, need it most.

Life truly brings unexpected experiences. I certainly never expected having a conversation like that with anyone. And I never expected my former husband, who always had to have just the right mattress and the perfect pillow, on the highest quality of sheets, in a perfectly dark, cool and quiet environment to even begin thinking about going to sleep for the 20 years I knew him…to sleep in a holding cell, surrounded by criminals, while awaiting transportation to His sentencing.

After the hearing, He will return to a holding cell, waiting to be shackled and transported back to the jail until He is transported to the facility in which He will serve the remainder of his sentence.

Meanwhile, my children will go to school in Utah this day and try to focus on their school work rather than worry or wonder about what is taking place in a courtroom in Denver, CO. And I will be at work, attempting to focus on my projects and deadlines, preparing myself to help my children accept and adjust to the outcome when I get home.

The media once reported the maximum sentence for His crimes was 20 years. I’ve heard people speculate He’ll receive a 10-12 year sentence. Others anticipate 5 years. So we wait for word of the duration of His sentence, although at this point, no one knows what it will be.

A few of my children keep asking, “How long will He serve?” (I can’t comprehend being a child and having to ask a question like that.) And what do I say–20 years, so that anything less will seem “short” and be a relief? Or do I minimize it and risk devastating them should the outcome be longer than my guess? And it’s all a total guess for my part,because I am not His wife nor am I considered by the government or anyone else to be a “victim,” so I receive no word of communication from anyone regarding any part of His case.)

All I can do is tell my children the truth. I honestly don’t know. I only know this: “If you get up one more time than you fall, you will make it through,” (Chinese Proverb) the unexpected events that comprise Life.

Destiny, Serendipity…or Chance?

Date: September 13, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I finally had the age issue under control but had yet to utter the two words that would change everything and take my unexpected life in a completely different and unexpected direction. Verbalizing those two words made me nervous. I continued to hold out.

One night I asked Bachelor #5 how he was so calm about everything.” Nothing seemed to phase him–not my former spouse residing in jail, not four additional children (including a four-year-old), not my devastated financial situation, not the potential challenge of blending two families. He was always patient, calm and optimistic around me and THAT gave me confidence, courage and hope. Although I try to be optimistic, there is a part of me that worries. I needed to know why Bachelor #5 didn’t seem to be worried. He shared his reason with me.

He told me he didn’t know how he met me! (Duh. Even I knew the answer to that one: online.) He clarified, “No. You were NOTHING I was looking for. I don’t know how I found you.” And THAT is why he wasn’t worried? That screams romance like nothing else. You can imagine how well that went over with me so he hurriedly explained the dating philosophy he had lived by since his divorce.

Because the trend was that men date down a decade, and he’d never been a fan or follower of fads, he intentionally looked for women 48 years and older; women his age. (He had also been married to someone older than him the first time.) Because his children were mostly raised, he looked for women whose children were grown. He also looked for a singer or an actress, someone who would understand his passion to participate in theater and possibly join him there. (In case anyone is keeping track, I am none of those things!)

When I asked him if I had met ANY of his criteria, he said yes, “You lived in Utah County. I would not have dated you if you hadn’t lived in Utah County.”

Of all criteria a man could judge by, I’d never anticipated that one. Not ever. (Of course, I’m not from Utah. And over the past year, I have seen the passion many residents feel for their great state–some of which even extends to Utah County residents who love it so much they wouldn’t consider living anywhere else.) After everything I’d ever imagined being judged for, height, weight, outer beauty, inner beauty, education, career, intelligence, etc…I had simply been the right location! I finally get why real estate agents think location is everything. Lol. I guess sometimes it is, even in dating!

Ironically, I had tried so hard to live elsewhere. When thrust into my unexpected life I had tried my utmost to stay in Colorado but even a woman as dense as I can be finally had to admit that for some reason, I was supposed to live in Utah. EVERY thing had worked out for me to live in Utah. But when I had given in to the idea of living in Utah, my plan had been to live in Salt Lake City. And when I couldn’t get that to work out, I had planned to live in several other Salt Lake-area locations, but nothing had worked out for me anywhere but in Utah County. So I ended up in Utah County, commuting to work, but I knew I was where I was supposed to be–for whatever reason. I had assumed it must have been for my children, and maybe it was. But I’d never stopped to think it might also be the best place for me.

So when Bachelor #5 told me the one criteria I fit, I had to laugh. Only I knew that I had tried so hard to work out so many living situations OTHER than Utah County!

Bachelor #5 said he logged on to the singles site one night, input his criteria, and although I shouldn’t have been a match, there I was on his computer. My profile should never have been there, there wasn’t much about my profile that fit the criteria he was looking for: I wasn’t the right age, I had children at home (and one of them was young!), I wasn’t a singer or a performer, but he read my bio anyway and said when he had finished reading, none of his criteria mattered any more. He contacted me, got to know me, eventually asked me out, met my children, and the rest of the story…is still unfolding!

He told me, “All I can tell you is that I feel so good about everything, so at peace with everything, I’m excited to be a part of it all. And I feel very strongly we didn’t find each other on our own. There is no logical way to explain how we found each other; we never should have found each other; we couldn’t have found each other without ‘help’.”

Maybe he was right. I was attending singles activities sometimes (Sunday night meetings and dances, on occasion) but Bachelor #5 NEVER participated in them, so I never would have met him without some help from somewhere. He was online, but I was nothing he was searching for; he shouldn’t have found me based on his search criteria. Add to that, he and I were each online just one month and our one month participation on the same site, out of all the sites there were to choose from, just happened to overlap. Maybe we had been “helped” in finding each other.

Or maybe it was destiny. “Destiny itself is like a wonderful wide tapestry in which every thread is guided by an unspeakably tender hand, placed beside another thread and held and carried by a hundred others.” (Rainer Maria Rilke)

Or serendipity. “Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you’ve found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for.” (Lawrence Block)

Or chance. “Chance is perhaps the pseudonym of God when he does not wish to sign his work.” (Anatole France)

Call it whatever you want–serendipity, destiny, chance, a miracle, a “tender mercy.”

But I began to believe I was on the right path to reach my fairy tale after all. It’s got all the makings of one, even from the very beginning. The only thing missing was “It’s Time.”

The two words Bachelor #5 was waiting to hear.

Shrek II

Date: September 12, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

With each new day, September got closer. He’d passed the ultimate slow dance test, but before I uttered THE words, I reassured myself regarding my decision by asking Bachelor #5 every question I could think of, every possible scenario I could brainstorm, and he patiently addressed them all.

I couldn’t believe it, but I continued to uncover layers of Bachelor #5.

One day, he mentioned in passing something about a master’s degree. I’d known him at least 6 months and it was the first time, apparently, THAT had come up! I stopped and asked, “Hold on, did you just say you have a MBA?” He said, “Yes, why?” I replied, “I can’t believe you’ve never told me that before. I’ve known you this long and it’s the first time you mentioned it!” He said, “Well, I told you I taught some college classes several years ago…” Yes, but I hadn’t stopped to think about what that implied. Another layer discovered.

He took my children and I to a park in the canyon near my home to play tag. Guess who couldn’t be caught? My teenage son looked at me and said, “Mom, I don’t think he’s that old! He’s really fit–and fast! I wouldn’t worry about his age any more.” Another layer gone.

Then there was the time he got on a trampoline and taught my four-year-old how to do flips. I was thinking he was pretty spry for a grandpa of 48 years old–and then when he was alone on the trampoline and thought no one was watching, he started jumping really high. Right about the time I noticed him jumping high, and started to worry he was going to hurt himself, he did a Russian! (Any former cheerleaders out there who know what that is?) The twenty-something former cheerleader I was talking to looked at me and raised her eyebrows. She really liked Bachelor #5 and probably wanted to ask, “And you think he is ‘old,’ why?” Another layer gone.

I realized, “Age is something that doesn’t matter, unless you are a cheese” (Billie Burke)

Before I Committed Myself

Date: September 11, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.” (Jane Austen)

I made my decision, I needed to tell him, but I couldn’t. There was something else I had to know before I fully committed myself with, “It’s time.”

My problem was this: how can you think you’re in love with a man, how can you marry him, if you don’t know what it’s like to slow dance with him? One more experiment was needed. But I had to be discreet.

It didn’t even dawn on me to test his slow dancing mojo in my home or his, our own music playing. With 8 children between us, I didn’t even consider that a possibility. Instead, you’ll NEVER guess where I tested my hypothesis! A singles dance. (I know! After all I have written about them, I actually ended up going back to one, voluntarily, with Bachelor #5, just to see how I felt about slow dancing with him!)

It was going to require serious maneuvering though. Bachelor #5 was not a fan of singles dances. His ONE singles dance experience had not been pleasant. Thankfully, it occurred long before I went to one because he was not happy to be there, he sat on a chair against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and he didn’t dance once all night! (In his defense, that is SO not like him, I had to laugh at his hostility toward singles dances!)

So I didn’t tell him my plan. I didn’t tell him where we were going or why. I just buttered him up before the experiment by taking him to my favorite Provo restaurant. He was curious all through dinner about what was coming afterward, yet I never revealed a thing. I simply warned, “I’m sorry, you’re not going to like it, but it is simply something that must be done.”

That piqued his curiousity. As we walked to the car, he got a flash of inspiration and said, “I KNOW where we’re going! I know what we’re doing!”

I insisted he didn’t know anything. He insisted he did. He put me in the car, got in, turned the car on, looked over at me and asked, “Which building?”

Such is the price you pay when you have so much in common with someone else, when you’re so alike. He really did know where I was taking him. A singles dance. You can’t put much over on a soul mate.

But I didn’t back down. I gave him directions and we were off for the final experiment. We pulled into the parking lot and talked for a few minutes before going in. He had some concerns, but I assured him we simply had to dance a slow song or two and then we could leave.

Then he worried what he was supposed to do when women asked him to dance! I told him that wouldn’t happen; people would see we were together, and women would leave him alone. However, I guess he had enough experience with single women to worry about that anyway. We went inside.

It’s always that same, strange, weird feeling when you enter a singles dance, and that night was no different. Thoughts of, “What am I doing here? I don’t belong here!” flooded my mind as my senses were overwhelmed by the pulsing beat of old songs and current ones, and the sight of old people dancing like teenagers–or trying to, anyway. But Bachelor #5 and I pressed on.

After a minute or two, a slow song came on, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dance floor. A song neither of us knew was playing, but it was a very good, very appropriate song that led to a MOMENT on the dance floor. You know what I’m talking about; those MOMENTS in life that are amazing while they last, when time seems to almost stand still, and their memory lingers for years to come.

“There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.” (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

Bachelor #5 passed the test.

And guess what? We had so much fun, we stayed most of the night–dancing every slow song and even some fun fast songs that he or I liked or that brought back memories of good times from previous decades. Unexpectedly, Earth, Wind and Fire’s “September” song came on, and although I was a pretty young teen when it was popular, it was totally Bachelor #5′s genre; we both love it and we danced to it. Looking back, and given his September deadline, that probably would have been a good MOMENT to say, “It’s time,” but I didn’t even think to. I just had the thought, “Dude, if you only knew what ‘September’ is going to have in store for you. There you are, innocently dancing and having a great time, until you get the shock of your life–’It’s Time’!”

After the dance, as I walked to the car, I had a moment of nostalgia. I thought, “This is not my life anymore. These singles dances are not for me anymore. This just may be the last singles dance of my life that I attend.” And despite my previous experiences there, despite the cast of interesting characters I’ve profiled, I had a sentimental moment as I realized how much I had grown and changed, even as a single woman, since my arrival on the singles scene July 13, 2009.

My singles experience was winding down.

And I felt a profound sense of wonder that it was, coupled with a feeling of gratitude for all that I had endured, tried to rise above, and eventually learned, as a result of being unexpectedly single in my unexpected life.

“Play with life, laugh with life, dance lightly with life, and smile at the riddles of life, knowing that life’s only true lessons are writ small in the margin.” (Jonathan Lockwood Huie)