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Random Strangers

Date: October 10, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we’ll never know.” (Jack Handy)

Ok. I’m going to sound old here, but “back in the day” (one year ago) when I was operating in absolute shock mode, simply trying to get through each day, one at a time, as I adjusted to the unexpected life that was mine, and while I was waiting and worrying about a miracle for my son, I got a small one for myself.

Unexpectedly.

A local grocery store, Macy’s, was having a case lot sale. I went and stocked up on some food items for my little family at a bargain price. It was Saturday night, I was newly divorced and couldn’t help but think what a loser I was to have a shopping trip as my only plan, the big thrill, for the evening. As I walked into the store, I was sure every other customer knew I was single, knew my shame (why I was single), and was staring at me.

When I finished, as I walked out the door pushing my grocery cart piled high with cases of canned food, a man driving by in his car called out a comment to me, ridiculing me for my purchases. I couldn’t believe it! In all the years I had grocery shopped in Denver, no one had ever commented on my purchases or made fun of me for the amount of items in my cart. It was only after I had moved to Utah, the land of family and food storage, that I was ridiculed.

I walked to my car feeling so dumb.

I was embarrassed.

And believe it or not, my emotional state hung in such a delicate balance one year ago, that my feelings were actually hurt by that stupid comment from a thoughtless stranger.

I wanted to cry out, “I’m just a single mother trying to feed her children!”

Or, “Believe me, buddy, I already know what a loser I am–I don’t need your help and encouragement!”

But I tried not to think about it as I fought back tears, opened the trunk of my car and began to unload my cart in the parking lot. I was grateful it was dark so no one would see me, the biggest loser among all women, married or single, crying like an idiot in the dark while she unloaded her shopping cart.

I felt more alone than anyone else in the parking lot.

I wondered how I was going to get through the rest of the weekend, the next week and the rest of my life feeling as I felt. Instead of feeling rejuvenated by the weekend and able to face the coming week, I was crushed.

And then, out of the darkness, and without a word, a man was standing beside me, helping me unload my cart. He didn’t really say anything while he unloaded everything into my car, but as he handed me the last case, he paused for just an instant and smiled at me. It was dark, but I was struck by his beautiful, clear light eyes as he looked into mine and smiled. And then he got into his old, dark-colored SUV parked next to mine, that I hadn’t noticed until that moment, and drove away.

I stood there. I watched him drive away, my burden so much lighter from our encounter. I marveled at such kindness from a stranger, especially on the heels of exactly the opposite experience from another one.

He was probably just some nice man, a former Boy Scout, doing what he does for everyone, for me, that night. But to me, it was as if he was heaven sent, that moment, that night. He will never know what his small act of kindness meant to someone like me. In the parking lot of Macy’s grocery store.

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” (Tennessee Williams)

Especially while living an unexpected life.

Don’t we all?

Bachelor #5 And The Pinky Swear

Date: October 8, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“To pinky swear (in some regions referred to as the pinky promise) is when two people entwine their pinky fingers…to signify that a promise has been made…Traditionally, the pinky swear is considered binding and tantamount to a handshake in terms of sealing a deal. The pinky swear originally indicated that the person who breaks the promise must cut off their pinky finger…The pinky swear signifies a promise that cannot be broken or counteracted by the crossing of fingers, the “I take it back” or any other trickery.” (WIkipedia)

The September wedding date wasn’t going to work.

I informed my children. They seemed disappointed, except for my oldest. He looked worried and advised, “Don’t push it off too far, Mom, or he’ll lose interest and dump you!” (Have I mentioned how much I appreciate the confidence my children have in my ability to hold the interest of a man? Lol.)

My son was apparently very concerned that pushing back the date meant Bachelor #5 wasn’t going to follow through with marrying his mother.

When I told Bachelor #5 about that conversation he laughed and offered to “pinky swear” promise to marry me in January, and told me not to worry, he ALWAYS keeps his pinky swear promises!

I’m pretty sure I know four children who plan to hold him to that.

“Broken promises don’t upset me. I just think, why did they believe me?” (Jack Handy)

I Didn’t Even Debate It

Date: September 21, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

While we were waiting for the ring…

“I told my therapist I was having nightmares about nuclear explosions. He said don’t worry it’s not the end of the world.” (Jay London)

I have a friend who’s a therapist. He can’t be my “official” therapist due to a conflict of interest because of our friendship, but he makes a fabulous friend. He is always there with brilliant counsel, and I would think twice about ever disregarding his friendly advice. In fact, if I’ve never told him, I don’t know what I would have done without him on March 18, 2009.

My world had fallen apart and the question of the day from everyone–my husband, his attorney, the government, my church leaders, my friends, my family, my children, EVERYONE–was, “What are you going to do?” Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clue.

I don’t remember if he called me or I called him, but my conversation with him was one of the most important and valuable that day. When he asked, ‘Andrea, what are you going to do?” I replied, “I don’t know. All I know is that I want to do what is best for my children. And it seems to be…” I shared my thoughts with him.

Doing what I felt was best for my children was my #1 goal in the whole unexpected life thing. They had their whole lives ahead of them; and as much as it broke my heart to acknowledge it, I’d had my chance. Regardless of their adversity, they still had lives to live. They needed to learn, grow, overcome, accomplish, and LIVE. It was my responsibility to help them do that.

It’s what my mom had done for me when I was growing up and our family was tried and tested in the adversity of losing our father, lifestyle, life and everything as we’d known it. (Although not to the extent my children lost theirs.) It’s what her mom had done for her when their family was tried and tested in the adversity of losing their father, lifestyle, life and everything as they’d known it. And I knew I owed my children the same thing.

My mother, and her example of rising above adversity and carrying on, and that she taught me to do that, had made all of the difference in my life. When my unexpected life hit, I knew exactly how to act and what to do–to carry on–because she had taught me that.

My friend, the therapist, responded with something that helped me continue the path I had chosen. It set an important course for my unexpected life when he said, “Andrea, if only every woman, every parent, in trauma, adversity, marital stress, divorce, and every other hard thing that comes in life did that, their children would be so much better off! There would be a lot more healthy, happy children in the world.”

So as we’ve lived our unexpected life, I’ve tried to focus on helping my children overcome and be what they should be regardless of the challenging circumstances we’ve found ourselves in. And as I see my children healing and finding happiness and joy again, I believe time has proved my decision to be the right one. After all, it’s not what happens to you, really, that counts. It’s what you do with it. The most important thing to me is that my children grow to become good, kind, responsible, law abiding citizens who contribute to the good of the world. And it’s possible to do that regardless of the obstacles in your path. That’s why I chose to put my children first. It was my therapist friend who backed me up in that decision, too.

So, one of the first people I called after reaching my decision to remarry was this friend.

He’d already met Bachelor #5 (that was prerequisite to me making my decision), and when I asked him what I should do next he recommended premarital counseling. He gave me the name of a therapist he knew who specialized in remarriage and I didn’t even debate it. I called and booked an appointment.

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“)

A Phone Call

Date: August 14, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

She thought it would be a fun joke for us to call our mutual friend together.

In some ways it would have been, but due to the Ponzi scheme perpetrated by my former spouse, I was scared to call. Although he hadn’t been a victim, my friend’s husband was one person my ex-husband had specifically mentioned to me as being unfriendly toward him after his crimes were revealed. I wasn’t sure how a phone call from Andrea Merriman would be received. But I didn’t want to get into all of that my first meeting with my birth mother!

So I made the call. I figured if the husband hung up on me, THEN would be the time to explain. And wouldn’t you know it? Just my luck. The husband answered the phone when I called.

He isn’t a mean man, just gruff, and I am sure a phone call from me was the last thing he imagined for himself that night. He asked me my name a couple of times. When he finally realized it was Andrea Merriman, he said simply, “What do you want?” I asked if I could speak to his wife.

She got on the phone and asked me if everything was all right. We hadn’t communicated for awhile. I told her I didn’t need anything, I was just calling to let her know I’d met an old friend of hers and gave the phone to my birth mother.

They had QUITE a chat. Old friends catching up on their lives in the most unexpected of ways!

The rest of the evening consisted of things you’d expect when reuniting with the mother who gave you life. I showed her pictures of my childhood and life, she showed me pictures of her children. I met one of her five children (and I really liked him.) She told me everything she could remember about my birth father, I told her about my children and divorce and new life; we enjoyed a very comfortable visit.

But at the top of my list of interesting things about our first meeting was the fact that my Colorado friend, a friend of mine since approximately 1994, had not only known my birth mother but had been her best friend and college roommate!

Have I ever said it’s a SMALL world? Because I really believe it is!

Bachelor #17: The Importance of Voice and How You Use It

Date: July 26, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Women don’t want to hear what you think. Women want to hear what they think – in a deeper voice.” (Bill Cosby)

Voice. The biggest thing I can say about Bachelor #17 was that he had a very unusual voice. And it wasn’t deep.

He was tan with spiky hair. When I first met him, I thought it was white-blonde, but on closer inspection I realized it was gray! (Such is dating in your 40s, versus dating in the 1980s! Sometimes I still can’t get used to the older men…)

He loved Michael Jackson, American Idol, was a good dancer, had an outgoing and fun personality, drank rootbeer by the gallon and was a successful businessman. But he paid the price for his success in the hours he worked. Although we went out places, he preferred “at home” dates so he could take phone calls and be accessible to his clients. And while he was a very nice man, I would say he could best be described as a “mama’s boy;” not very tough emotionally, used to being catered to and taken care of; prone to whining.

Although I didn’t love his devotion to his job and I tried to overlook the whining, things fell apart on the first family date–he brought his daughter and had me bring my two youngest sons. It was a later evening activity, my boys began the evening tired, and it went downhill from there! In fact, I spent most of the evening out in the foyer with my youngest who just wanted to go home and didn’t really care about the man providing the evening’s entertainment.

The family date wasn’t a huge success. My children felt nothing toward the man, and he didn’t want the challenge of a four-year-old. (He had married later in life, stayed married less than 10 years, and had one well-behaved, mature-for-her-age daughter. Need I explain further?)

The icing on the cake of the evening, however, was one distracting fact: his zipper was down all night long. It just added to everything about the evening that was a failure for me. (Those who know me best know what a problem THAT is for me!)

That night was our last date.

What I didn’t know was that I should have been thanking my boys for that.

A few days after that “kids included” date with a nearly 50-year-old man who forgot to zip his pants, I happened to be listening to the news (a very rare occurrence for me since becoming the subject of too many broadcasts back in 2009) and heard the radio station announce a local man was suing a health club because of harassment he received from other patrons of the club as he exercised. A commercial came on and I wondered what type of adult would be made fun of as he exercised, what type of person would perceive he was being made fun of while he exercised, and what type of person would sue over that.

I should have known.

The injured man came on air when the commercial ended and there was no mistaking that voice. That very unusual voice. The high voice of a man prone to whining. Bachelor #17!

I gave silent thanks to my boys for their behavior.

I need someone strong. I need someone who doesn’t care what people think. I need someone who can roll with the unexpected events in life, rise above the challenges and laugh in spite of it all. I need someone who doesn’t whine. And the last thing I want or need is to be involved with someone seeking negative publicity! I had enough of that in 2009! (Besides, it’s going to take someone with all of the above qualities to love me and accept the past I bring with me to any relationship–my baggage not of my creation.)

Goodbye Bachelor #17. I hope your court case works out for you–or at the very least, that you’re able to exercise, and live, in peace! That means no whining.

“It takes a genius to whine appealingly.” (F. Scott Fitzgerald)

I have yet to meet a genius.

Bachelor #16: The Doctor Is In (Town)

Date: July 15, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I met Bachelor #16 online. He was a doctor living in Northern Utah. He was a few years younger than me and seemed quite nice and normal–other than the fact he was willing to drive four hours just to go to dinner with me!

He was also the first man I dated that I tested out the whole “don’t tell every detail of your story, just one aspect of it” tactic on. And to my amazement, it worked! I told just one reason I had divorced when asked my story, it was comparable to his, and the conversation turned to other things without me having to reveal every aspect of my marriage that had ended in disaster.

But wouldn’t you know it, and as the evening progressed, the doctor wanted to know a lot more about my children. Specifically, if their father paid child support and exactly how often they saw him or spent time with him. I don’t recall that I’d ever been asked that before, so Bachelor #14 had never prepped me about what to say about that and sometimes I’m not so quick-thinking on my feet! That darn deer-caught-in-headlights look I’ve gotten so good at was evident in my face.

I didn’t know what to say, so I told the truth. I answered honestly: their father wasn’t employed and he lived in another state which made regular contact impossible due to his situation and lack of funds, my financial situation and my work schedule. I told him my children had contact with him through letters and twice-monthly phone calls which I paid for.

Bachelor #16 couldn’t believe that. It bothered him so much that through the rest of the evening he kept coming back to that and asking more questions about my children’s father, his child support, and their contact with him. I answered the questions, but offered no details.

To my surprise, his concern seemed to have less to do with my former spouse and more to do with my mothering: what kind of mother would stand for that? What kind of mother would allow that? What kind of mother would let that be the extent of a father’s involvement? What kind of mother would support such a dysfunctional family situation? He warned me of potential ramifications in later years as a result of my tolerance for an absentee father.

There is nothing I could say to that. He may well be right, although I’ve been working since 2009 when our unexpected life began, and I’ll continue to be working my children’s entire lives, to prevent that. You have to make the best of what you’ve got. And in that regard, I admit, I don’t have much. I’m simply doing the best I can and then relying on others (friends, family, neighbors and many good men) to make up the difference for my children until someone, someday, becomes their father.

Bachelor #16 was also upfront about what he wanted from a woman: more children. I had to be honest about that, too, and tell him I was unable to accommodate that plan.

As for me, I discovered Bachelor #16 wasn’t very close to his mother or siblings, he touched feet all day long (turns out he was a podiatrist), and neither of those things worked for me. Clearly there was no magic.

“That’s the thing with magic. You’ve got to know it’s still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you.” (Charles de Lint)

So long, Bachelor #16.

Bachelor #11: Mr. Salsa

Date: July 3, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Everything in the universe has rhythm; Everything dances.” (Maya Angelou)

And no one danced more than Bachelor #11: Mr. Salsa.

He was several years younger than me, he was very fit, and every date was an opportunity to go salsa dancing! I had never really salsa danced before. Bachelor #11 didn’t mind. He was happy (and patient) to teach me.

But I guess you could say we weren’t dancing to the same rhythm. I discovered he was unemployed, on welfare and lived with his mother. I, on the other hand, was the sole parent and support of four children. I needed someone dancing a dance more similar to mine.

Need I say more?

Except for this: “Salsa is something I usually put on my chips, um with a little cheese. I’m going to say that’s the only thing I really know about salsa.” (Travis Wall)

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)

Ready, Set…Go?

Date: June 2, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I thought I was ready to date again. Actually, that might be a bit of a stretch. I had been married and out of that type of social situation for the previous two decades. I didn’t have a clue what dating was like in 2009. I didn’t know anyone, I didn’t know how to meet anyone and I didn’t know how to go about being “single.” What I WAS ready for, however, was to not feel so lonely!

So, I thought I was ready to move forward with my life. But what did my children think about that? I get asked that question a lot. Here’s the answer:

Before I was even divorced, when my children and I were still living in our home in Colorado with their dad prior to our move to Utah, one day I was standing in the kitchen and my two oldest children walked in. Out of the blue they said, “Mom, you have GOT to date, find a nice man and get married again!”

In shock, I looked at them and put a finger to my lips to hush them. Their dad was in the house, watching t.v. in the next room! I said, “Thank you for that, but I’m still legally married. I can’t date!” And then I laughed–knowing no one would want a financially-devasted, forty-something woman; the sole support of four children. (There’s nothing like a couple decades of lies and betrayal by a spouse to make you feel old, wrinkled and, like I’ve said before, an “old bag!”)

It was all so new, I think I was still in shock, and I had way too much on my plate in terms of moving, working and being a mother to think I’d ever have time to date anyway. I couldn’t comprehend anything like that (at that time) in my life. Little did I know the crushing weight of loneliness a single mother feels.

So, before I was even divorced, my children had given me permission to date.

And eventually, thanks to the terrible loneliness, I joined them in their readiness for their mother to date.

I tried to be a bit circumspect in my approach. I didn’t know anyone, and didn’t know how to meet anyone, so I decided to start with the singles program of my church. I got online and checked out the local site. It listed a lot of activities and things I didn’t understand. It also listed dances (every Friday night in Utah county) and Sunday night meetings called “firesides” where guest speakers present spiritual messages to the group.

My problem? I didn’t feel ready to walk in alone.

So I thought about it for awhile.

And then late one Friday night, on a total impulse, I did something else before I even dared go to a dance or a fireside and walk in alone.

I probably should have listened to Henry Ford: “Before everything else, getting ready is the secret of success.”

Instead, I acted impulsively.

If you keep reading, you’ll see that I’ve done that a few times. (You’ll have to decide for yourself how you think it turned out for me.)

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