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With Odds Like Mine

Date: September 23, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“…I’ve never been to therapy so there’s probably a lot of stuff about myself that I don’t know.” (Al Yankovic)

I didn’t know what to expect from my counseling session.

Believe it or not, I’ve always hated sharing the private details of my life (until my unexpected life–when I had no choice, the public nature of my former spouse’s Ponzi scheme and crimes took care of my privacy issues for me.) But I went. With Bachelor #5.

He tells me I wasn’t overly open or friendly to the counselor at first. He said my behavior gave him serious doubts as to the productivity of such an effort, but Bachelor #5 gave it his best shot anyway. He was open, willing to discuss all types of things with a virtual stranger, humble and accepting of advice the counselor offered. His comfort in the discussion gave me courage to share some of my thoughts. A little bit.

And then the premarital counseling session took an unexpected turn.

Toward the end, the therapist shared his background. And wouldn’t you know it? He was from the same hometown I am–Grand Junction, Colorado. Although he was several years older than me, we’d gone to the same high school; had some of the same friends…and then I started thinking about my connections there, his last name, and had a sinking feeling that I actually knew the therapist, too, or at least of him. I asked, ‘You don’t have younger brothers, do you?”

He confirmed that he was the oldest of five boys and actually had FOUR younger brothers.

That’s what I was afraid of.

I knew who he was. I knew (and loved) his parents, especially his mom. Because I had dated not just one, but TWO, of his younger brothers!

What are the odds of that? To end up unexpectedly single, living an unexpected life, in a new state, fall in love with a man, go to the “extra” effort of participating in remarriage counseling, and out of all counselors in the world, I end up with the one not just from my hometown, but whose brothers I dated?

I’m starting to think I should move to Las Vegas and take up gambling.

“Las Vegas: all the amenities of modern society in a habitat unfit to grow a tomato.” (Jason Love)

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.”

Ring Shopping Part II

Date: September 19, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

It’s funny, the things you forget.

I remember when I had my 4th child, I was a lot more laid back in my preparations for him than I had been for my 1st, 2nd and even my 3rd children! About two weeks before he was due, I looked at my daughter and said, “We’d better get to the store and get some things we need before the baby comes!” She and I got to share in the fun of buying the things we’d need for a baby. We did it in one store, in one shopping trip, and when we got home and had hauled everything in, I was ready.

I had everything I needed for the new arrival. It was my 4th child, I knew what I was doing and after the shopping trip felt completely prepared. Until my daughter, in 5th grade at the time, looked at me and asked, “But Mom, if you have a baby don’t you need…diapers?” I had COMPLETELY forgotten about diapers!

That’s a little how I was with the whole willingness to marry Bachelor #5 thing.

I had finally told him it was time, but I had forgotten, completely, about the engagement/wedding ring portion of the ritual. When Bachelor #5 mentioned it, reminded me about it, I honestly believed I didn’t need a ring. I didn’t want one.

Divorce devastates many people, financially, and I didn’t want to add to anyone’s financial burden. Plus, I’d had a ring the first time I was married. I’d worn it and put my heart, soul, life, love and the finest of all of my efforts into my marriage and my husband, had thought he was doing the same and that we were close to blissfully on track for eternity–and it had ended. Unexpectedly. The icing on the cake of that failure was that not only did the marriage end, but the government took my wedding ring away because it was an “upgrade” (not the original wedding ring) when they seized the assets we’d acquired due to my ex-husband’s participation in a Ponzi scheme.

I didn’t want or need another ring.

But Bachelor #5 insisted. I told him to just go get anything and I’d be fine with it. But Bachelor #5 didn’t want me to “be fine” with it. He wanted me to love my ring, and said he wouldn’t have a clue what I would like or want without my input, and patiently endured the first ring shopping experience in which the only thing I decided was that I hate ring shopping…and I didn’t want a diamond ring.

“We do not know what we want, but we are ready to bite somebody to get it” (Will Rogers)

Ask Bachelor #5. I wasn’t the friendliest, most eager customer the poor sales clerk at the first jewelry store had ever tried to sell a ring to. In less than 10 minutes, in fact, I’m pretty sure it may have been less than five minutes, he stepped away and brought out the big gun: the store manager. An experienced woman. She calmly took over. And I came to a decision.

I wanted a band.

“As good as I am, I’m nothing without my band.” (Steven Tyler)

Understanding Simple Pleasures

Date: September 18, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens, but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls off a string.”

It has been 18 months, to the day, since my unexpected life began. Back then, there were some dark, difficult days!

What are my days like now?

Very different from the previous two decades I lived as a married, stay at home mother who spent her days caring for her family and volunteering service in my church and community. These days I’m up early, get myself ready for work, my children ready for school and daycare, I try to get dishes unloaded from the dishwasher, dinner in the crock pot, and a load of laundry done before I drive a carpool to the elementary school, drop my youngest at daycare and commute to work–arriving at work between 7:30 a.m. and 9 a.m., depending on the day and the traffic.

What do I think about it all?

Mostly I think how carefree I feel. When my unexpected life began, and my entire world changed so quickly, completely and unexpectedly, I doubted I’d ever feel carefree and light-hearted again. But thank goodness I was wrong.

We’ve healed. We have sweet days again. And although not every day is splendid, wonderful and exciting, we’ve been blessed with time together (now that I work outside the home, our family time is even more precious and we know it, appreciate it and try to make the most of it), an increased appreciation for one another (a result of the additional service we’ve each had to render to one another to help our little family function) and an abundance of love for one another within our family circle (our shared experiences have strengthened the bonds of our unity even more.)

An additional opportunity has been the chance we’ve had, as a family, to appreciate the simple pleasures of nature. We live five minutes from the mountains. Access to them is just right up the street from our home.

One such simple pleasure was the night Bachelor #5 took my boys up the canyon to “throw rocks.”

He came by after work and picked us up. There was a river he wanted to show the boys. When we arrived, Bachelor #5 taught the boys the simple pleasure of throwing rocks into the river. My sons were thrilled!

Bachelor #5 climbed all around the river bank, searching for the biggest rocks he could find, and then threw every giant rock he prospected into the river with a BIG SPLASH. My boys “oohed” and “ahhed” on the shore, thrilled with the splashes. It was like The Bellagio in Las Vegas, only without the beautiful opera music, instead, accompanied by the music of nature. It sounds unbelievable–because doesn’t every adult have the childhood memory of throwing rocks into water and making splashes? But I don’t think my sons had ever done anything like that before. (My former spouse excelled at showing our children the world and providing many material opportunities, but getting him to share the simple pleasures of life with us was not something he made time for very often, if at all.)

Bachelor #5 also demonstrated the simple pleasure of floating things downstream. He walked upriver from us, threw a big stick into the water, and encouraged my four-year-old to look for it floating by as the current carried it past him. It was so exciting for him to see the item traveling down the river! I don’t think the boys had ever done anything like that before, either.

Then Bachelor #5 said, “Ok! Now lets skip rocks!” He picked up a rock, threw it into the river and we all watched as it hopped and skipped on the surface of the water.

“Your turn!” he encouraged. My boys stood there, looking at him with puzzled expressions. I whispered, “I don’t think my boys have ever skipped a rock before, I don’t think they know how.”

Bachelor #5, so kind, patient and calm, looked at me with a flash of disbelief, probably wondering how my boys had missed these simple pleasures of life, but just as quickly, he turned and taught my sons to skip rocks on the water.
Then they all went back to throwing boulders into the water.

As I watched Bachelor #5 patiently carry rocks and help the boys throw them, and my boys dancing in excitement on the shore, I had to look away. So no one would see my unexpected reaction. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I watched my sons, traumatized way too early in their young lives, happily playing, learning new things and having an adventure enjoying a simple pleasure on a river bank–with a man. (I don’t know if all single mothers are like me, but I am almost desperate for my children, especially my sons, to be able to spend time with men so they will have male influence in their lives.)

I am so thankful for the simple pleasures that are ours to enjoy. We lost a lot entering our unexpected life, but we never lost each other OR the simple things that are free, all around us, in nature. And we ended up moving right to them.

Despite the challenging circumstances of our unexpected life and all we’d had to pass through to get to it, I realized that my children finally have everything I always wanted for them. I have something I always wanted to have too, something REAL.

I may not have found a diamond ring yet, but we were stringing the strand of our life with the pearls of simple pleasures, every day.

“The noblest pleasure is the joy of understanding.” (Leonardo da Vinci)

We owe a lot to our unexpected life. We have sweet days, simple pleasures and the noblest pleasure of all: understanding. Perspective. Appreciation. And a depth I doubt we could have acquired any other way.

The Unexpected Life.

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…For Skid Marks

Date: September 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“What you need to know about the past is that no matter what has happened, it has all worked together to bring you to this very moment. And this is the moment you can choose to make everything new. Right now.

The day arrived. I was ready to say the words.

I didn’t want to think about what I was about to do, afraid I’d come up with a reason or an excuse not to. So while we were sitting on a sofa in a very special place I charged ahead, not letting myself think, and asked one more question. Bachelor #5 probably wanted to roll his eyes at yet another question, but he refrained.

I asked, “If I marry you, and after we’re married when my flaws and shortcomings are abundant, and you realize you haven’t gotten exactly what you bargained for, will you stay and make the best of it, or will you want to leave?”

He said, “Of course I’ll stay. Everyone has shortcomings. It will just give us something to work on together. I’ll help you and you help me.” I thought he’d say that, but I had to make sure. (THAT was the right answer, by the way.)

I responded, “Ok then, ‘it’s time.’”

I don’t think he expected that.

And although it’s hard to catch a man who is organized and plans ahead for everything off guard, I think I succeeded! He did a double take, looked at me with wide eyes and asked, “What did you just say?”

I repeated, “It’s time.”

I think he still couldn’t believe it. He asked, “Are you serious?”

I was.

He said, “I didn’t expect you to decide so fast!” Given the many weeks I had struggled to come to a decision and make a decision, it didn’t seem that fast to me–but I could relate to the whole speed thing. I definitely wasn’t expecting something like Bachelor #5 and what he offered to happen in my unexpected life…and so fast! Interestingly, for once, the man who always has something to say, didn’t have much to say.

He simply hugged me, took me home, and drove away–actually, sped away might be a better description–without a backward glance. He may have been shocked. Or scared. Or maybe, knowing how he thinks and plans ahead, possibly already working on “taking care of the rest.”

So, “If you never want to see a man again, say, ‘I love you, I want to marry you. I want to have children…’ – they leave skid marks.”

Shock…And A Grin

Date: September 15, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Crimes sometimes shock us too much; vices almost always too little.” (Augustus Hare)

Night before last I was up until midnight, hanging out and chatting with my oldest. Talking about anything and everything EXCEPT the sentencing of his father which took place yesterday. But it had to have been on his mind because he didn’t seem to want to be alone with his thoughts; I sensed he needed someone to talk to.

When he went to bed, I checked on my 10-year-old and found him crying in his bed, worried about the pending sentencing of his father. I offered words of encouragement, tried to help him look at the bright side and attempted to cheer him up–until nearly 1:30 a.m. It broke my heart and I realized in that moment, regardless of the outcome of the sentencing and the remorse my former husband feels for what he has done to so many people, there are some things he just won’t quite understand. He hasn’t been around to witness it firsthand; he has been incarcerated. He hasn’t had to look into the devastated faces of our children. He didn’t have to (or get to) watch them live with pain He caused. He hasn’t had to help them pick up the pieces and struggle to carry on and create a new life when the going was tougher than any of us ever imagined.

But, I sent everyone to school, to press forward in their lives and with their responsibilities despite the challenging circumstances–and I went to work, too, awaiting word of the sentencing outcome. Looking back, I think I worked all day under an inordinate amount of stress. I don’t think I even realized the stress I was operating under until I got a phone call near the end of the day. A Colorado friend was calling to report the outcome of my former spouse’s sentencing hearing for operating a Ponzi scheme/stealing over $20 million.

I anticipated, based on the last collect call I received from my former spouse, that the hearing would take two hours. Instead, more than eight hours later my friend called, crying, to report the maximum sentence had been handed down in a courtroom whose atmosphere was so tense and hateful she felt sick to her stomach.

I don’t know what more I can say about the importance of choosing to heal instead of hate, but I love what Martin Luther King Jr. said: “Have we not come to such an impasse in the modern world that we must love our enemies – or else? The chain reaction of evil – hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars – must be broken, or else we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.” (Martin Luther King, Jr.) He was absolutely right.

So as my friend recounted the events of the day, I really only heard a few words: The maximum, 12 1/2 years.

How was I going to tell my children?

I don’t know what I wanted the outcome to be; I don’t know what I expected. I have only prayed that I will be o.k. with whatever the judge decides and that somehow, I will be able to help my children be o.k. with it too. But to hear the words, “151 months,” “12 1/2 years” shocked me. It sent me into a very unprofessional, uncontrollable crying-in-the-workplace episode; the likes of which I never expected or imagined.

My poor co-workers. I’ve held it together for over a year. I’ve never done anything like that in public that I can recall. But today was so unexpected. The unstoppable wail of a woman in shock, broken-hearted, traumatized by the senseless destruction and tragedy unleashed on so many by the terrible choices of one man. The grief of a mother knowing the next time her teenage son saw his father that son would be almost 30 years old. The cry of a single mother trying to hold her little family together, knowing she had be the one to share the bad news and see pain in a little boy’s eyes, again, when he learned the fate of his father.

If I ever think I’m having a bad day…remind me of March 18, 2009, or September 14, 2010.

Shaking, somehow I managed to drive all the way home, bawling, and tried to pull myself together enough to face my children. To break their hearts one more time. I’ll never forget the dread I felt as I pulled up to my home, knowing what I had to go inside and do. Break my children’s hearts.

I spoke with my daughter first. I told her the outcome and she accepted it calmly, with grace and dignity (unlike her mother.)

I sat my 10-year-old down and prepared him for the news. He was happy and smiling until that moment then a serious expression came to his face as I shared the events of the day. Instead of the devastation I anticipated, he chose to look at the bright side, “Well, if he has already served 13 months, and he gets time off for good behavior, he’ll be free to see us when I’m only in college! That’s not so bad!”

Stoic and optimistic. All on his own. I could not have been more proud of him than I was in that moment. And despite the terrible struggle coming to terms with his father’s choices has been for him, I was amazed at how my sweet son has grown over the past 18 months. If I can only help him realize that if he will choose to handle all of the setbacks that come his way like today’s, he is destined for greatness–regardless of, or perhaps because of, his adversity.

My oldest son got the news on his phone before he even got home. When I sat him down to tell him, he already knew. Everything was what he had expected, and he is to the point in his life where he is actually grateful for all that he has learned as a result of all that he has passed through. He can see how he has been blessed as a result of his trials, so he tried to laugh about it–revealing he and his sister had placed bets on the outcome and he had gotten out of doing the dishes this week!

I guess everyone deals with shock, grief and trauma in their own way. Who’s to say which way is right or wrong? Certainly not me. But as one co-worker encouraged when I was in the throes of my unexpected reaction and trying to apologize for it, “I’d worry about you if you didn’t react.”

Note to self: one “secret” to the unexpected life is to let yourself feel so you can heal. (Just remember: no wallowing!)

We did that yesterday, each of us in our own way, and as I sent my children to bed each had a smile on their face, which brought one to mine. We’ve survived another unexpected development in our unexpected life…and we came out grinning.

“It’s easy to grin when your ships come in and you’ve got the stock market beat, but the man worth while is the man who can smile when his pants are too tight in the seat.”

We’re going to be o.k.

And now, back to the chick-flick portion of my unexpected life. What’s coming just might be worthy of a grin, too.

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.