Living Happily Ever After

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The Bright Side of My Divorce

“Always look on the bright side of life.” (Monty Python)

When I divorced, initially, I thought my situation was more difficult than a “typical” divorce because my former spouse is in prison. His incarcerated status left me completely alone to raise and support our children. There is no child support; no parenting time with the other parent; and while I wouldn’t wish the prison experience on anyone (although the choices my former spouse made certainly warrant prison time) as time has gone on, I’ve been able to look on the bright side. 

“The habit of looking on the bright side of every event is worth more than a thousand pounds a year.” (Samuel Johnson)

The bright side? Of being left alone, the sole source of support for four children, while the former spouse serves over 12 years in prison? Some might wonder, “What bright side?”

Here it is: I am completely alone to raise and support our children. There is no child support.

I have sole custody–medical custody, educational custody, social custody, religious custody, every type of custody I could think of when I wrote my divorce. And after observing many divorced couples have to co-parent their children, I’ve realized being left completely alone is much simpler and easier (in some ways, for me) than what some divorced couples experience.

I get to do what I feel is best for my children. I don’t have to get permission, approval or really even report to another parent. I don’t have to compromise. I don’t make plans and have them changed by the other parent. There is no other parent to get frustrated or mad at me. While some former spouses have to endure spending time with one another for the sake of their children, I don’t have to do that either. And now that we’re used to seeing “Unsensored Inmate Mail” stamped on the outside of envelopes that arrive occasionally in our mailbox, basically, I’m drama-free!

Yes, there is always a bright side–if you choose to find it.

The whole prison thing also meant #5 didn’t have to meet a former spouse face-to-face. Instead, he received a letter from Shawn Merriman, mailed from a Colorado jail, early in our engagement.

I don’t remember much of the letter other than that my former spouse tried to be kind and supportive in what he wrote–although how his attempts to do that came across in writing I still wonder about. It seemed a little “lecturing” to me as it told #5 he would be the one to do such-and-such with the Merriman children and it listed lots of things #5 would be doing with them. (It sort of read like Shawn Merriman was telling #5 all that he expected him to do as a step-parent.)

But #5 is not only a very nonjudgemental person and accepting of everyone, he is a good sport. He accepted the letter graciously…and we never really discussed it again. I don’t know what, if anything, he did with it. He just does his thing, in his own way, and my children are the better because of it. I credit the healing of my children to a great big miracle, to the passage of time and in large part, to #5.

“But when we have families, when we have children, this gives us a purpose for being, to protect our children, to avoid going to jail because if I’m in jail, who looks after my children, who’s there for my wife?” (Ernie Hudson)

#5.

Are You SURE?

“Madam your wife and I didn’t hit it off the only time I ever saw her. I won’t say she was silly, but I think one of us was silly, and it wasn’t me.” (Elizabeth Gaskell)

When you have children, meeting the other parent of your fiance’s children is part of the engagement leading to remarriage experience. It sort of snuck up on me. So although I don’t know what I was expecting that meeting to be like, it wasn’t what I expected at all.

We were at an event for #5′s oldest son. I didn’t know anyone, but #5 had been very good to introduce me to everyone. At some point he asked me how I was, if I was having fun and if I’d met everyone yet. I said, “I think so. But there’s an older woman here who looks a LOT like your oldest daughter that I haven’t met yet. Is she your ex-wife?”

He gazed in the direction I was looking and said, “Yes, that’s her. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

We walked over to where she stood, #5 introduced us and then he got out of there! My conversation with his ex-wife was brief. She told me #5 is a really good person. She thanked me for being kind to her children. And then she said something about wanting me to know she would never do anything to cause a problem or come between us.

I appreciated her positive comments, but it was all a little surreal for me. I’d never expected to be divorced, much less getting remarried and having a conversation with someone’s ex-wife! And to have to discuss the drama ex-spouses can be (when I’m not a drama queen AT ALL) almost mortified me. I didn’t quite know what to say, so I agreed with her that #5 is a really good person; I told her how much I loved her children; and then said something like, “Oh, I’m sure you would never do anything–especially when there’s no reason to as I know I came around long AFTER your divorce–we don’t even need to talk about it, but thanks for saying that.”

Here is what I remember thinking:

“Am I REALLY having this conversation?” (The drama potential is SO NOT me.)

“She’s older than I imagined.” (I later found out she is older than #5; I don’t know why I didn’t expect that.)

“Wow. She is SHORT!” (I think the top of her head hit somewhere between my elbow and my shoulder. I don’t know why I didn’t expect that, either.)

“I really like her.”

Afterward, when we were driving home, #5 asked me for my thoughts about the day. I told him my feelings and then said, “But you’ll be amazed who, of everyone, I really liked.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Your ex-wife,” I replied.

And since I’ve always been a big believer in marriage and families, especially intact ones, I couldn’t help but add, “Are you SURE you shouldn’t see if you can put your original family back together? Your ex-wife seems nice. Your children could have their parents together again. Your ex-wife wouldn’t have to struggle… We could take a break while you see what you could work out. I would completely support you in that.”

I thought it was a very kind, generous offer on my part–I knew what I felt about #5 and what I would be giving up for him to do that, but I felt I had to suggest it, to do my part to see if there couldn’t be one less broken family in the world. Instead, #5 looked at me like I was completely looney. And in the interest of being concise and discreet,  I’ll sum his response with two words: “No, thanks.”

“Well, whaddya expect in an opera, a happy ending?” (Bugs Bunny, “What’s Opera, Doc?” 1957)

I sure do. Which is why on one other occasion during our engagement, I made the same offer to #5 again and asked, “Are you SURE you shouldn’t see if you can put your original family back together?”

To which he replied, “Andrea, you can decide you don’t love me. You can decide you won’t marry me. But no matter what, and even if it means I’m alone the rest of my life, the option you’re suggesting is not something that will ever happen.” And then, with a smile, he told me if I suggested such a thing again he might get really, really mad.

I may be slow, but I got it.

I decided I had done all I could do on that front, so I’d just enjoy the opportunity that was mine and continue to work toward my own happy ending.

“I’ve always felt that life is a novel, and part of it is written for you, and part of it is written by you. It’s up to you to write the ending, ultimately.” (Lynn Johnston)

Magnetic Force

“Magnetism, as you recall from physics class, is a powerful force that causes certain items to be attracted to refrigerators.” (Dave Barry)

Or, in the case of my engagement to #5, my children to him every time he stepped through the front door of our home. In honor of that (and because when I asked #5 to tell me what he will remember most about our engagement, without pause, he replied, “Magnetic Force”) this blog post is for him.

I’ve mentioned before that my children liked #5 from the moment they met him. Truth be told, they saw his potential before their mother did–each one made it a point to tell me how much they liked him (one even suggested I marry #5) the first time they met him. I appreciated their honesty in expressing what they thought and how they felt, but it also complicated things: while I would never marry someone my children didn’t like, I had to make sure I chose the man I chose for ME because my children were going to grow up someday and I’d be left with the man!

My children liked #5 so much that every time he came to our home they congregated in the living room, sat down, and visited with him. Especially my younger children, but even my teenagers. This is wonderful for getting to know one another, and it’s fabulous for the step-parent situation, it just makes very limited “alone time” even more limited! Yes, there is something to the magnetic force that draws the Merriman children to #5…and then they never leave!

Another engagement “highlight” is how we’ve had to handle it. Over time, all subtlety went out the window. It’s called “couch versus corner.” And now here comes the too-much-information part: we sit on the couch, hang out with the kids and then as #5′s departure nears I’m forced to announce, “You’re welcome to stay but we’re going to say goodbye now.”

You should see the room clear!

I never expected I’d EVER have to say or do something like that but as I’ve probably said before, “Life is, for most of us, a continuous process of getting used to things we hadn’t expected.”

Even, or especially, during a wedding engagement when there are eight children involved and the engagement lasts longer than you ever expected it would.

You Can Call Me

“It’s strange but true. Fat chance and slim chance mean the same thing.”

When my unexpected life began, and in the real world, there were probably many (myself included, on occasion) that believed the reality of a wonderful life ever working out for me again was a slim chance or a fat one. However, the beauty of an unexpected life is that it does work out. With enough faith, hope, hard work, optimism, endurance and some miracles, in fact, it always does. Every time.

Another highlight of my engagement, for me, took place shortly after the driveway conversation with my youngest and the neighbor boy. One day I received the following email from #5:  ”Hey, Just wanted to let you know that last night in the car Jake asked if he could call me Dad. I told him he could call me anything he wanted–Dad, Fatty, Mike…Later he called me Mike, but at least he knows that it will be ok.”

Things were changing in our unexpected life; they were definitely looking up. Mr. Awesome was proving himself truly awesome time and again, but there were still a few unusual conversations ahead. Especially those that involved a four-year-old.

“The difficulty with this conversation is that it’s very different from most of the ones I’ve had of late. Which, as I explained, have mostly been with trees.” (Douglas Adams)


Who Are You?

“It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.” (Johann Schiller)

Returning to the singles scene following my divorce was an interesting experience, particularly when the subject of my four children arose. Each and every time a man asked me how many children I had, and especially when they found out all of them still lived at home, I witnessed a variety of reactions.

A blanch.

Disbelief.

Shock.

A swallow.

And then usually a change of subject!

I heard things like, “You’re 42 years old and you have a…THREE YEAR OLD? What were you thinking?” Certainly not that I’d be divorced and left alone to raise him and three other children just a couple of years after his birth.

Or, “That’s ok, I don’t have a problem with kids–as long as they’re provided for…BY SOMEONE ELSE.” No, ex-husbands in prison don’t make much money, and with large restitution orders hanging over their heads, probably never will. I am the source of support for my children.

There were many, many other comments and reactions. Too many to recount, actually. The few that didn’t fall apart at the mention of my four children, usually refrained from EVER mentioning them. In fact, they never brought them up. I guess they thought if they ignored the four elephants in the room, they might go away. NOT. (And I’d NEVER want them to!)

And then there were a very few, about four men, who asked me about my children, referred to my children by name, and offered kind comments occasionally.

Except #5. The first time I met him he asked me all about them. He didn’t blanch at the number of children, he simply said, “I have four kids too!” He took things a step further, and actually made an effort to get to know them: he took my children snowmobiling; he brought them gifts when he returned from an out-of-town trip; he had them over to his home for games and dessert; he took them to lunch once; and he always sat and chatted with them when he came to pick me up for our dates. He became their friend.

One afternoon shortly after our engagement, we pulled up in the driveway and my youngest and his neighbor friend came running to greet the car. When #5 rolled down his window to talk to the boys, the first thing out of either boy’s mouth was the neighbor boy’s question to #5 about his parental status. “Who are you? Are you his daddy?”

In that instant I wondered how #5 would handle that. It was the first time that conversation had confronted us. I sat back and watched to see what he’d say or do. But without missing a beat, #5 calmly replied, “I am!”

My youngest smiled, happy and content to know and to be able to show the neighbor boy he had a dad again. And the boys returned to playing. The question had been resolved. No big deal. But it was a momentous moment for me. One of the highlights of my engagement, in fact. One of the most tragic losses of my unexpected life was my children’s loss of their father. But thanks to #5, we all had everything we needed again.

And #5 became a father to a total of 8 children.

“Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father!” (Lydia M. Child, Philothea: A Romance, 1836)

I guess you could say #5 is EXTREMELY blessed now.

As are we.

Late Nights

“I’m a late-night guy.” (Dane Cook)

One thing (of many) that separated #5 from the rest of the bachelor’s was his schedule. He always had me home at a decent hour, even early. In fact, (dare I confess this?) back in the dating stage where I thought he wasn’t interested in me and only asked me out to give a newly divorced single mother social experiences because he felt bad for me, he took me home pretty early one night–and I went out with some single girlfriends after that! When we got engaged, that didn’t change; he always had me home early (by my standards.) It took some getting used to, on my part. He’s not a late-night guy.

In fact, he once commented to me that the people at my house sure stay up late. I was surprised. I seriously hadn’t noticed. But ever since he pointed that out, I can’t help but notice as I occasionally drive toward my home late at night that my house, and just two others on my street, have their lights on past a certain hour. I must be a late-night gal, raising late-night children. And I guess I hadn’t noticed because by the time I get home from work, and my little family spends a decent amount of time together, it’s late at night!

So my late night experiences during the course of my 9-month engagement have been with my children. Here’s a memorable one. From last night.

It was 12:06 a.m. and my oldest and I were up chatting, he was doing homework and I was working on a gift for #5, when my son got an email to his phone. He read it, got a big grin on his face and then read it aloud to me, something like, “Congratulations! You have been accept to Brigham Young University for Fall 2011.”

IT CAME.

We were so excited, we were talking, laughing, joking and celebrating in the kitchen. His life sort of passed before my eyes as my mind was drawn back to the late nights of 1993-94, when I was up in the middle of the night with him every night. The dark nights were so still and quiet I remember feeling like he and I were the only people in the world, and I didn’t mind at all–I treasured every moment I had to enjoy him. It seemed very fitting that BYU contacted him late at night…and totally normal for he and I to be up late at night together!

In the midst of our celebration, we remembered #5 and wanted to share the good news. We knew he was asleep, so we sent him a text. We also know that since he sleeps near his phone in case his children ever need to reach him, it was probably going to wake him up. Late at night. But we did it anyway–we thought it was worth waking up for!

“If people were meant to pop out of bed, we’d all sleep in toasters.” (Author Unknown, attributed to Jim Davis)

Not only had that late night moment been years in the making, we’d had some challenges along the way: his world collapsing temporarily due to the revelations of his father, a divorce, a move to a new state and school, yet he kept his straight A’s even through the midst of all that; his mother returning to the work force full-time so he became the oldest male in our home and “at home” parent before and after school, even had to stay home with sick siblings on occasion–not the typical existence of a high schooler; in addition to school, he also works at Cold Stone; and then a few recent challenges during the application process that made it even more meaningful.

For one, my son had applied to only one college. BYU. He didn’t have a backup plan. That decision was motivated by money–we didn’t want to waste money paying to apply to any other college my son didn’t want to attend, but as time went on, I realized how unintelligent a decision that was and started to worry a little bit. (Especially after we were notified by his high school that they were sorry but they had sent an incorrect transcript and G.P.A. of just one senior to every college he had expressed interest in or that had expressed interest in him, and my son was that lucky student. I told you we have amazing odds at our house! And because the school didn’t correct their mistake for two months we began to worry a little bit about how it would all work out.)

However, last night’s late night memory made it all worthwhile. And #5 shared it with us via text. It was one of those moments we’ll never forget.

“A moment lasts all of a second, but the memory lives on forever.”

Letting Go

“Time heals what reason cannot.” (Seneca)

Tonight I had the opportunity to chat with a Colorado friend on the phone. We’ve emailed occasionally, back and forth, since I moved to Utah but I can’t remember the last time we talked. She told me I sounded like my old self and asked, “Tell me, are you really as good as you sound?”

I assured her I was.

She then said, “O.k., then tell me how you’ve done it.”

I’m not sure I had an answer for that.  How do you heal from the wounds and trauma of a very unexpected life?

In the beginning, I was overwhelmed with trying to make sense of anything and to reason through it all. Everything was of such a magnitude, and so shocking, reason alone didn’t heal me. There’s no way it could. So I have to credit my healing to time–it has been 23 months since I was thrust into a life I didn’t plan for or expect, but I’ve seen for myself that there really is something to the old adage that “time heals all wounds.”

I’ve done it through reason, time…and due to a great big miracle. It’s a miracle to me that I have healed. I remember wondering if it was possible to recover from losses like mine. I remember doubting I’d ever heal or feel whole again in my life, but I honestly do.

I think the key to recovery is this:  what reason doesn’t take care of, what time cannot heal, and if there’s anything not covered by your miracle…the rest you simply have to let go.

“Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” (Author Unknown)

I recommend this course of action to everyone. Moving forward is a whole new adventure in itself. At least, it was for me. It even led to falling in love, getting engaged…

O.k., so that is really all it has led to because I haven’t moved forward beyond being engaged–yet. The love update, for anyone who has been with me for awhile and to any newcomer, is that I’ve been engaged for over 9 months now! I NEVER expected that. But just in case that should change any time in the near future, I think it’s time to share some highlights of the past 9 months.

“I recorded my hair this morning, tonight I’m watching the highlights.” (Jay London)

Here we go…

Natural Born Espionage Agents

“All women are natural born espionage agents.” (Eddy Cantor)

I wish that were true. If I were a natural born espionage agent, I’d like to think I might have at least seen my unexpected life coming! But I didn’t. Because I’m not.

And I also have to say I think becoming single again in my 40s, following 20 years of being happily married, might have been a little less confusing if I’d possessed a bit more cunning and stealth. I guess I’m just not shady enough, and never was very good at (or interested in) playing games.

Or, maybe it’s just me, and a deficiency I possess, because my 5th grader walked in the door last week and announced, “Mom, NEVER reveal your secrets to a woman!”

Barely 11 years old, and he’s already being schooled in the ways of spies, I mean, girls.

I knew exactly what was going on. “Uh-oh, what happened?” I asked. “Did you make the mistake of telling a girl which girls you like and now you have a…situation?”

He confirmed his dilemma. And although I didn’t want to lecture him, I let him know secrets and girls can be a problem. I told him it was wise to never reveal his crushes–especially to the competition! He said, “But Mom, she asked! She really needed to know.”

Yes, I bet she did. “Of course I can keep secrets. It’s the people I tell them to that can’t keep them.” (Anthony Haden-Guest) Especially with Valentine’s Day coming. It had an interesting result, too.

The secret that wasn’t a secret anymore resulted in my son returning home from school yesterday with several cans of a variety of soda pop–gifts from different girls for the holiday. He was absolutely smitten with each flavor of soda pop bequeathed to him by female admirers!

“I have always been an admirer. I regard the gift of admiration as indispensable if one is to amount to something; I don’t know where I would be without it.” (Francois de la Rochefoucauld)

Holiday

“Valentine’s Day is not a holiday. Rosh Hashanah, that’s a holiday. Memorial Day, yes a holiday…You know who invented Valentine’s Day? Hershey’s and Hallmark.” (Peter Gallagher, The O.C.)

My oldest walked in to the kitchen, saw I was writing a blog post and asked what I was writing about. I replied, “I think, Valentine’s Day.” To which he responded, “YUCK. I can’t think of a more pointless ‘holiday’ than that!” and he left the room. I had to wonder, how did such a romantic mother raise such a realistic teenage son? LOL. Although I don’t know if #5 would think the mother is so romantic. Case in point: a conversation we had just last week.

We were driving down the road when he asked, “So, are the kids set for Monday night?”

I panicked, trying to recall what was scheduled for Monday night. My mind raced as I tried to remember what I had planned, and how I could have neglected to take care of a tiny but extremely important detail called childcare. I must have given #5 the biggest, blank, deer-caught-in-headlights stare prior to verbalizing a very intelligent, “Huh?”

All he could do was shake his head and offer two words, “Valentine’s Day!” Followed by, “I can’t believe you forgot! How unromantic you are! What would Edward and Bella say?”

He was right. How very unromantic of the woman bent on a happy ending to her fairy tale, who endured the revelation of crime, a Ponzi scheme, divorce, publicity, loss, financial devastation, an unexpected return to the workforce, a return to the single life, dating in her 40s, THE BACHELORS  and everything else, who eventually found her very own Mr. Awesome, and then forgot… Valentine’s Day!

I don’t know what Edward and Bella would think, but here’s what I thought: I thought back to last Valentine’s Day. 2010. My first as a divorcee/single mother. I was pretty overwhelmed by my unexpected life back then, so I don’t remember focusing on it much. I think I was just hoping to get through it, sort of forget it, and look forward to brighter days. But instead, that was the day I arrived home from work to find a beautiful flower arrangement waiting for me on my porch–from #5. He took me to dinner and a play that night. That was also the date I was battling bronchitis and a sinus infection (I know, romantic!), the night #5 warned me that when my antibiotics kicked in, he was taking things to a new level.

How much has transpired since last Valentine’s Day, including this realization: I think I forgot to focus on February 14, Valentine’s Day, 2011, because every day with #5 feels a lot like Valentine’s Day to me. That is something I never expected when I walked through the doors at The Old Spaghetti Factory and saw #5 for the first time; when I sat across the table from him on our first date in 2009.

“How can you tell if two adults eating dinner at a restaurant are in love?

  • Just see if the man picks up the check. That’s how you can tell if he’s in love. (John, age 9)
  • Lovers will just be staring at each other and their food will get cold. Other people care more about the food. (Brad, age 8)
  • It’s love if they order one of those desserts that are on fire. They like to order those because it’s just like how their hearts are on fire.” (Christine, age 9)

About Selling Out…

Ok, that’s not quite true. From the moment my unexpected life began, I was pretty sure there was no way I was going to avoid that day. I just hoped to put it off as long as I could. Mostly for sentimental reasons. But the unexpected life doesn’t allow for a lot of sentimentality. You HAVE to learn quickly, from day one, to lose, to let go, to not dwell on to your losses but to move forward, and look for the good you still have or that is within your reach.

Since March 18, 2009, I’d been afraid that day–the day Peter Paul Prier would buy my violin back–would come. And finally, in 2011, there was no other way around it. But as with everything else in life, it was a choice. My choice. Here’s why I made it.

I believe we learn, grow and develop ourselves throughout our lives. However, I also believe one of our biggest opportunities to do that is while we are children and teenagers. My life was greatly enriched by the music lessons, dance classes, performing groups, art classes, sewing classes and other experiences my parents provided me with as I was growing up so that I could learn new skills and develop new talents. Those experiences then created additional opportunities for me as a college student and an adult and have continued to greatly enrich and bless my life.

I want that for my children too.

Yet from the moment I entered my unexpected life, my primary focus has been physical survival: feed my four children and keep a roof over their heads. (We have been very blessed in this. I got a job and am able to provide for my family. And in the beginning, several friends helped us with groceries, a Costco delivery, a Costco gift card, grocery store gift cards, Target/WalMart gift cards, hair cuts, clothes and even some cash. Another friend and some of my extended family helped us get into a home. We couldn’t be more grateful for every bit of help we have received that has made our survival possible.) But my additional challenge is how to enrich my children’s lives on a limited budget.

“Don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. Don’t sell out.” (Christopher Reeve)

In life, even my unexpected one, I won’t ever give up. I can’t. I won’t ever lose hope. But about selling out…

I actually did that. I finally had to.

I did it for my kids.