Living Happily Ever After
test123

Blog Articles

Fortune

Date: October 11, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Fortune knocks at every man’s door once in a life, but in a good many cases the man is in a neighboring saloon and does not hear her.” (Mark Twain)

Living an unexpected life, I can’t help but sometimes compare the “then” to the now.

Here’s one: fortune cookies.

When I was married, my former spouse had a hostility toward certain things. (And of course, criminal tendencies that have now been revealed or not, as with all people, it’s never what you expect.) Shawn Merriman felt anger toward fortune cookies. The sight of them on the tray at the end of an Asian meal upset him. To have someone read their fortune out loud from the scrap of paper they removed from the crisp cookie shell made him mad. I believe his venom toward the end-of-meal treat stemmed from his mother’s propensity to consult real fortune tellers for prophecies about her life, and that she made plans and lived according to the information they divined–something he completely disagreed with.

Whatever the reason for his hostility, and for the sake of peace and harmony in our relationship, home and family, I gave them up. I didn’t look at or read a fortune from a fortune cookie, for most of the 20 years I was married. Then I got divorced.

A year ago my sister came to town and took my daughter and me to a Chinese restaurant for lunch. When the meal was over, the fortune cookies came. My sister grabbed one, opened hers and read it. My daughter and I did the same. That small event was so huge to me, I recorded it in my journal–not as a defiance of my former spouse and the old life I had lived, as evidence of things from the life of Andrea Christensen I was embracing again–and the crazy single woman I had become. I hadn’t read a fortune cookie in decades.

My fortune cookie revealed, “Someone from your past will happily enter your life.”

So I saved it.

I even put it in my wallet!

I knew I was crazy, and my behavior toward the fortune cookie’s prediction proved it.

Things changed, again, with Bachelor #5. He gave me an entirely new perspective, even with fortune cookies. He not only reads cookie fortunes, he adds certain phrases to the end of them as he reads them out loud, and laughs! His fortunes have opened up whole new realms of possibilities for me. Lol.

Speaking of fortunes, here are some helpful ones for the unexpected, single life. Wisdom I offer to all from a knowledgeable and trusted source: the fortune cookie.

“Every man is a volume if you know how to read him.” (The problem is knowing the language they speak, as evidenced by the international set of bachelors AND by the love language every bachelor speaks–but that is another blog post in itself!)

“Your secret admirer will soon appear.” (Just watch out for stalkers!)

“You are surrounded by fortune hunters.” (That is true for women AND men. I’ll never forget the man who told me he didn’t mind that I had four kids, “As long as they’re provided for by someone else.”)

“Behind an able man, there are always other able men.” (Helpful to remember as you’re looking for your Mr. Awesome and haven’t found him yet. Don’t give up. If he was out there for me, he is out there for you!)

And last but not least: “Answer just what your heart prompts you.” (Useful for you-know-when; THE moment; THE PROPOSAL.)

In fairy tales and real life.

“Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale of all.” (Hans Christian Andersen)

And I Am Going To Have…

Date: October 10, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I remember the night my middle son asked, “Does it stink to have an ex-husband?”

And how trying to look for the good, led me to respond, “It is a bummer, but I guess it’s better than never having had any husband at all!”

That was also the night he told me I needed to get a boyfriend.

I told him I didn’t need a boyfriend. He replied, “That’s right, because you’re too busy working and you have to spend time with us kids, too.”

Ever the mother, I corrected him. “No, I WANT to spend time with you. I GET to spend time with you. I love being a mom, I don’t do any of this because I ‘have’ to.”

Poor guy, he had a lot of thoughts and feelings to work through; because a few nights later, he said, “It would be a bummer to have a stepdad.”

One year ago, when those conversations took place, it was hard for me to imagine that situation AT ALL. But I did tell him, “I don’t think you can ever have too many men be an influence for good in your life. You can never have too many good men who love you and are there for you. And you can never have too many friends. I don’t see a problem with that situation at all!” (Nothing like optimism, huh?)

I also shared with him the many good men who have been an influence for good in my life since my own dad passed away. My life has been greatly enriched by many men who have cared about me, loved me, served me, counseled me and helped me in a variety of ways the past 24 years.

I don’t know that I’d totally convinced my son at that point, but I could see him thinking–and he at least had the good grace to nod his head in agreement with me.

Cut to 2010.

I was walking in the hall of my son’s elementary school a few days ago and saw his picture hanging on the wall above an essay he had written about himself. It was all very cute, but one part caught my eye and I had to read and re-read it, over and over again. It made me shake my head…and smile.

“What makes me happy? My mom is getting married and I am going to have a stepdad.”

Frederick Keonig said, “We tend to forget that happiness doesn’t come as a result of getting something we don’t have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have.”

What a huge advantage for my son to learn that at only 10 years old. He’s light years ahead of many other people, especially and including adults, many of whom have yet to learn that important lesson. And once again, we have our unexpected life to thank for that.

Depend(s) On It

Date: October 9, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I was in Victoria’s Secret last night, waiting in line to make a purchase. A woman ahead of me, at the register, was having an animated discussion with the clerk. The transaction ended, the woman walked away, and I stepped to the counter.

The employee apologized to me for the wait but explained the woman was getting married. Apparently, she had just received a phone call from her fiance who told her to “pack warm,” they were getting married, so the woman was rushing to buy a few things before she departed for who-knows-where to get married!

Obviously, my situation is very different. Personal beliefs aside, with eight children between us whose lives will be impacted by our marriage, Bachelor #5 and I don’t feel we can run off and marry; we need (and want) to share it with our children. However, I couldn’t help comparing the woman’s situation to my engagement.

Mine’s more like this:

“No sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage, which they will climb incontinent, or else be incontinent before marriage.” (William Shakespeare)

Sounds like that engagement was lasting at least as long as mine to Bachelor #5!

You can DEPEND(s) on it.

I just hope I don’t have to.

Lives

Date: October 7, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“A woman hath nine lives like a cat.” (Proverb)

Someone joked with me that I’ve lived many lives. As soon as I thought about it, I realized they were right:

I lived my childhood life, prior to 1986, when my dad died unexpectedly in a plane crash.

I lived my young adult years, another life, as the daughter of a widowed, single mother.

I got engaged, married, and lived my adult life as the wife of Shawn Merriman, married without children.

I also lived my life as the wife of Shawn Merriman, married with children; a stay-at-home mother.

It seemed like another lifetime, but was really only four months, when I lived a life as the legal wife of Shawn Merriman; filing divorce paperwork and waiting as the request to dissolve my marriage was finalized, wrapping up the details of my old life, and trying to prepare for my new and unexpected one as a result of the crimes and Ponzi scheme my husband, unbeknownst to me, had perpetrated.

I lived another life as a divorced, single mother of four children, working full-time.

And then I got engaged to Bachelor #5. He suggested we marry in September. It seemed so sudden.

I wrote a list of everything I needed to accomplish before a wedding. There were 32 items on my list. Nearly three months later I looked at my list. I had completed just two of 32 tasks (neither of which was a dress to wear when I married or any other wedding detail) and the September deadline was looming. Add to that some delays we couldn’t negotiate and work around, and Bachelor #5 and I realized September wasn’t going to be a month we heard wedding bells pealing in our behalf.

Lets just say marrying in your 40s, blending eight children and two families, combining two adult lives, and everything else that is part of a remarriage is slightly more complicated (and takes a lot more time) than getting married when you’re young, carefree…and in your 20s!

The good news? As Bachelor #5 pointed out, “There won’t be ANYTHING we don’t know about each other by the time we finally marry. There won’t be ANY surprises!” (I love that he was looking for the good in the situation, by the way.) But he was right.

We’ve had some interesting engagement adventures for sure. Stay tuned. You see, September has come and gone. And although I hate to ruin the story I must confess: I’m not married yet. My engagement to Bachelor #5 seems to be lasting its own lifetime! Add it, as another life, to my list. Seven lives so far and I’m only 43 years old.

At this point, I’m hoping women actually have MORE than the nine lives cats are reputed to enjoy.

Because thanks to my unexpected life, I think I’m going to need them.

Aren’t we all?

The Night I Underdressed

Date: October 6, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Opportunity knocks for every man, but you have to give a woman a ring.” (Mae West)

I remember, once, serving grilled salmon to a dinner guest. She was from a wealthy but down-to-earth family in Kansas City. I considered the dinner a casual affair, but I’ll never forget her comment. “Wow, I feel underdressed–if I’d known what you were serving, I wouldn’t have worn jeans.”

That’s sort of the way I felt the night Bachelor #5 invited me to go for a drive. I thought it was just a late night excuse to see each other for a few minutes, but as this blog has demonstrated, I’ve been wrong about a certain man’s intentions before (pretty much all of the time.)

It was dark, late, I’d already put my pajamas on, so I didn’t change and didn’t bring up how underdressed I was–I thought we were just going for a drive. (And due to the darkness of the night, I don’t think he had a clue. If he did, he didn’t mention it.) We drove, we stopped and talked, and then very unexpectedly he said something like, “Well, I guess you’d better have this.”

He handed me a tiny velvet box tied with a ribbon.

Another hint for the unexpected life? Don’t spend time with a performer. You forget they can apply those acting skills to their personal life, too. He’d had that little box the whole time and hadn’t mentioned it! He had acted completely normal, in fact, until the moment he surprised me with it.

I gasped. “Is this what I think it is?”

He said, “Open it and see.” But then he couldn’t help himself. As I removed the ribbon and opened the box he added, “You’ll have to tell me what you think, but I think it is absolutely gorgeous! I hope you like it. I think you’re going to love it. I do!”

I opened the box. Even in the dark I could see the sparkle. I held it up to the moonlight and was dazzled by the way the band looked, nestled in the satin cushion of the box.

“Wait for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight, I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.” (Alfred Noyes) I’d waited, I’d watched, and it had finally come! (In the moonlight even!)

The good news?

“All things come round to him who will but wait.” (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

Eventually.

Bachelor #5 put the band on the ring finger of my left hand. It was perfect. And now I had the whole package: the man, the engagement to the man, and the ring.

“An engagement ring is sort of a tourniquet worn on one’s finger to stop circulation.”

Despite the fact I was seriously underdressed for the occasion, it was official. If I’d known what Bachelor #5 was serving that night, maybe I would have AT LEAST worn jeans! Regardless, we were off the market. Officially. We were engaged AND there was a ring involved.

“When a poor man goes to the market, often he comes home with only tears” (African Proverb)

Thank goodness my “market” experience, the singles scene “meat market,” had a different outcome. I left my tears somewhere along the way and eventually came home, instead, with Bachelor #5! And I have to say, I don’t think any other man could handle (or want) my slightly more complicated and unusual situation. After all, it can’t be easy being the fiance of the Queen of The Unexpected Life, but he does it while remaining cheerful, happy, kind, patient and calm. He truly is…Mr. Awesome.

Good job, well done, #5.

“If I said to most of the people who auditioned, ‘Good job, awesome, well done,’ it would have made me actually look and feel ridiculous. It’s quite obvious most of the people who turned up for this audition were hopeless.” (Simon Cowell)

Except for Bachelor #5.

Anticipation

Date: October 5, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The poetry is all in the anticipation…” (Mark Twain)

I arrived home from the life-changing date at Sundance to find my daughter waiting up for me. I’ll never forget where she was sitting, facing the front door to catch me right as I walked in, or the look of anticipation in her eyes.

“Well?” she asked. “Did anything exciting happen on your date tonight?” She had totally known. And she had never said a word.

I told her Bachelor #5 had proposed, I’d said yes, and she beamed her delight.

My oldest son got home late that night after work. He headed right to my bedroom, anticipation dancing in his eyes. With a huge grin, he asked me about my night. I cut right to the chase and told him I was getting married. He beamed, hugged me, said, “Congratulations,” told me how happy he was for me and how much he liked Bachelor #5.

I was blown away by their maturity. Who has teenagers that react to news like that the way mine did? (Like supportive adults?) I do. Through our entire unexpected life, my children have been supportive of everything I have had to do: return to the work force, move our family to a new state, drastically change our lifestyle and everything that goes with losing the only financial life we’ve ever known–and they’ve stepped up to help me do everything adults, or a spouse, would do as well. All without a complaint.

They have also been supportive of everything else I have attempted: they encouraged me to date, find a nice man and remarry. They told me I was going to get remarried, without a doubt, because I was a “catch”–even when I didn’t believe I was one. They tended their siblings so I could socialize. They were open-minded about the singles scene, manfriends, and especially about Bachelor #5 from the moment they met him. And they rejoiced with me in the miracle of finding the man who completes me (and our family.)

“…love…when it’s right, it’s the best thing in the world. When you’re in a relationship and it’s good, even if nothing else in your life is right, you feel like your whole world is complete.” (Keith Sweat)

I can relate to that. Although I’m still dealing with fallout, the consequences and some “messes” left to me by the events of 2009, MY world is complete. Unexpectedly so. And it IS the best thing in the world.

Wounds And Healing

Date: October 4, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It’s like trying to describe what you feel when you’re standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon or remembering your first love or the birth of your child. You have to be there to really know what it’s like.” (Jack Schmitt)

I don’t think you can describe the moments that come after a MOMENT like that, so I won’t even try–anyone who has ever experienced “a moment,” will understand why. But you get the picture.

Bachelor #5 proposed. I said “yes.” And we continued our walk on the paths at Sundance Resort, eventually stopping and sitting on a bench, talking, gazing up the mountain at the beautiful scene before us. I don’t know about Agent M, but I felt very at peace with the world. With everything. It was the greatest sense of peace, such a feeling of calm, a sense of complete and total healing like I hadn’t experienced since…prior to March 18, 2009.

Eventually, the sun began to set. He stood up, reached for my hand and suggested we head home. We had children to share our news with. I gave him my hand, and took one last look at Sundance, the mountain, the flowers, the evening light. I took a deep breath and inhaled the fragrance of the mountain air. I tried to memorize everything about that evening and its many moments, how I felt at that day’s end.

Whole.

Healed.

“When I stand before thee at the day’s end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.” (Rabindranath Tagore)

I had my wounds. I had healed. And I had a fiance.

The Unexpected Life.

I Didn’t

Date: October 3, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Now the choice has finally been made, you’ve put the story on the front page and produced the sort of collection of special reports that usually accompanies a major news event, not the announcement of the casting of one tired old film role.” (James Bond)

It was my 4th marriage proposal since becoming single.

It’s the first one I seriously considered.

And unlike Carrie Underwood, who said, “It’s nice to know you have support. Last night I got a marriage proposal. I just laughed,” I didn’t laugh.

I didn’t even throw up.

I cried.

And then I said yes.

I was getting married. To Bachelor #5.

I’d searched high (and low, as documented by some of the men I dated!) for him. And in the end, there were 31 men but there was only one winner. Bachelor #5. Mr. Awesome. The one I said, “Yes,” to; my “yes” man.

“I only have ‘yes’ men around me. Who needs ‘no’ men?” (Mae West)

By the way, his name is Mike. But since I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want anyone to know his name, and for the sake of his anonymity and to honor the stealth in which he won my heart by simply being himself while making me think he was never even remotely interested in me, and because I don’t think we can really call him a “bachelor” anymore, shall we call him…Agent M?

I think James Bond, or Albert Broccoli, would approve. And besides, you should see Agent M in a tuxedo.

I Guess I Was The Enemy

Date: October 1, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.”
(Nelson Mandela)

Bachelor #5 arrived to pick me up, looking his usual handsome, but more dressed up than was typical for our dates.

He took me to his favorite restaurant at Sundance Resort. We had a table by the fireplace. The service was excellent; the food was delicious. Everything was perfect.

The only odd aspect of the evening was that Bachelor #5 asked our server to take a picture of us at dinner. He’d never done that before, but I figured we’d known each other six months and he’d decided it was time for us to take a picture. I’ve never been a fan of photos taken at a table and tried to get out of it but Bachelor #5 insisted. I said, “But wait. What if I don’t like the picture?” to which he replied, “Oh well, I will!” and the server snapped the picture and documented the moment. An ordinary moment, I thought.

There are no ordinary moments, by the way. I was soon going to remember that.

We finished our meal and went for a walk on the wooded paths that are Sundance. It was a beautiful evening. Mountain flowers were blooming, birds were singing, you could hear the breeze gently blowing through the pine trees; fish were swimming in a little pond. We walked around a corner to a very private spot at the bottom of the mountain, facing beautiful pine trees, and Bachelor #5 stopped. He turned to face me and said, “I’ve actually brought you here for a reason.”

“I brought you here so I could propose to you.”

I was shocked. I argued, “You have not!”

He smiled at me and patiently said, “Yes, I have. Now, don’t move and don’t say anything.”

He got down on one knee, held both of my hands in his, said the most beautiful things he could ever have said to me…and then he asked me to marry him.

A perfect proposal of marriage. Right out of a fairy tale. (Minus the pumpkin coach, of course; we had traveled there in a Honda.)

I hadn’t been expecting anything of the sort that evening. I think it was Thomas Jackson who said, “Always mystify, mislead and surprise the enemy if possible,” and that night, I guess I was the enemy. I was so surprised, I can’t even remember the exact words Bachelor #5 spoke, I just remember how overwhelmed I was by the reality of the moment, and that in it he covered every hope, fear, concern and dream I’d ever had–especially since beginning my unexpected life.

“A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes.” (Mark Twain)

Is that wedding bells I hear?

Maybe.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

No Ring But Plenty of Secrets

Date: September 28, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

There wasn’t a ring. There wasn’t an engagement. But my children were catching on. Something was up.

One day Bachelor #5 picked me up for a date. We were both dressed up, and my four year old asked, “Where are you guys going? Are you going to get married?”

Another time, Bachelor #5 reported that my middle son caught him alone and asked, “When are you going to propose to my mom?” To which he had jokingly replied, “I asked, but she said I was too old!”

Who needs Cupid when you’ve got your little boys covering your back, huh?

Bachelor #5 took my oldest children to lunch. Afterward, he told me I had great kids. When I asked him why he thought that and what they’d talked about at lunch, he replied, “We decided that we wouldn’t tell you what happened at lunch and keep you in the dark.”

No problem, Bachelor #5, I thought. I’ll just ask my children. Except that actually was a problem, because my children refused to divulge anything related to lunch with Bachelor #5!

“Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.” (Benjamin Franklin)

Actually, that’s not true. Obviously Benjamin never met Bachelor #5…or my two oldest children. Not one of them ever said a word.