So, that’s my story.
A four year journey I never asked for or ever, EVER expected to be forced to embark on. But what do you do when you’re handed an unexpected life? You live it.
You take it, carry on, over time learn to embrace it, and eventually you conquer it! And along the way you learn to enjoy the journey–keep your eyes open and marvel at the many unexpected adventures that come your way as a part of it.
After all, “Life is just a journey.” (Princess Diana)
“You have to believe in yourself, otherwise you can’t do it. If you don’t believe in yourself, how do expect anyone else to? Because ultimately, you’re the one who has to do it.” (Donny Osmond)
Apparently, I had to do it—although I did it more without thinking than with any real belief behind the attempt. Here’s how it all went down.
As I’ve mentioned before, I have the good fortune to work with Donny Osmond on behalf of my company (he’s our spokesperson, I’m in public relations.) Donny is the consummate professional, not to mention uber-talented, a fabulous singer and entertainer with nearly five decades of show business behind him, and he is a NICE man and a family man to boot. I learn so much from him!
On my recent business trip, Donny flew in for the day to speak to and perform for my company. While waiting to go on stage, we chatted and caught up a little bit on what had taken place at our event prior to his arrival. I told him I’d seen an amazing talent the night before—a man who played a guitar and harmonica as he sang a song while riding a unicycle on a running treadmill (don’t ask! I don’t know how he did it, much less came up with the idea of doing it!) Donny was intrigued.
“What song was it?” he asked.
My mind went blank.
I couldn’t think of the song title or the words. I stumbled around trying to describe the song, but all I could remember was the tune. Without thinking, I started singing/humming it. And as I’m a few measures into it, humming away, I (finally) had the presence of mind to think, “WHAT in the world are you doing? You are singing a solo for Donny Osmond! Why would you do that? How are you going to get out of this one?” but I was already doing it and didn’t know what else to do…so I kept going until I’d finished the song!
“Oh, THAT song!” Donny said, politely, when I was through. “I know that song. That must have been something to see.”
Uh-huh. Much more to see than what I’d just put him through. One more thing off my bucket list before it even made it on: sing a solo for Donny Osmond. Check!
Another unexpected adventure. And this one was totally my fault.
“I was asked to act when I couldn’t act. I was asked to sing ‘Funny Face’ when I couldn’t sing, and dance with Fred Astaire when I couldn’t dance – and do all kinds of things I wasn’t prepared for. Then I tried like mad to cope with it.” (Audrey Hepburn)
Still trying to cope.
“For there is a price ticket on everything that puts a whizz into life, and adventure follows the rule. It’s distressing, but there you are.” (Leslie Charteris)
One adventure of my most recent business trip, was the opportunity to address a crowd of several thousand people. As I manage the philanthropic efforts of my company, my topic was service to others and making the world a better place. Here’s an edited excerpt:
“On the plains of Texas and Oklahoma, trees were sometimes rare and precious things and there was a tradition that recognized the responsibility of one generation for the next. Homesteaders, once their house was built, the well dug and the first crops harvested, planted their ‘grandchildren grove.’ Farmers read scores of seed catalogs to select a particular type of pecan tree—hardy and strong, able to withstand deep winters and torrid summers—and sent off carefully hoarded money.
In due time, a tree hardly larger than a switch arrived. The farmers placed the roots in water, dug a hole, planted the trees, and watered them carrying bucketful after bucketful from their wells. The pecan trees weren’t for their benefit. Pecan trees grow very slowly, the farmers would be dead and gone long before the groves they planted provided substantial shade or nuts. Some felt work that went unrewarded for generations was a waste, but farmers who planted pecan trees weren’t planting the trees for themselves. They were creating a legacy for others.
In the 1870s, my great-great grandfather left his native country of Denmark for Utah and established a homestead. He built a dwelling on the property, worked the land for a number of years and eventually it became his. He built this house—lived in a tiny upstairs accessed by a ladder on the outside of the structure while his sheep lived in the room below him! His effort sustained his life and became a legacy. Who can predict the value of one person’s life well-lived, the service they provide or the impact of a legacy? In my experience, you can’t, because it’s limitless.
I was reminded of that fact 140 years after he established his legacy, because his legacy literally saved me when I unexpectedly became single—without a home, money or assets—the sole parent and support of my four children. What began as a little homestead and then became his legacy, sustained me and my children for a time and helped us get our start in building and creating a new life.
What is your legacy? How are you demonstrating your commitment to making a difference in the world, making the world a better place? Your legacy is the service you provide, the mark you make on the world while you’re here and the one you will leave behind when you are gone. Although our days are numbered, may our good works never be!”
After the speech ended, I went about my other business duties at my company’s event. But as usually happens after a speech, I met people who recognized me as the woman who spoke on stage, they’d introduce themselves and we’d have a great discussion about the impact of service, making the world better or they’d share how someone had touched their life by serving them. What I didn’t expect was any discussion about anything else. But as I’ve said before, in life, you get unexpected adventures.
A man approached, introduced himself, told me how much he’d enjoyed my remarks and what an amazing woman I was. He was quite effusive in his praise, it made me start to think, “Wow, my speech must have been even better than I thought!” And then the man moved on to the topic of being a single parent, surviving hard things, told me we had a lot in common, what a strong woman I must be, how much he admired me and how nice it was to meet me. (I know, I know, I’ve always been slow to catch on to these types of things, haven’t I? And apparently two times through the singles scene, in the 1980s and again in 2009-2010, didn’t make my instincts any sharper!)
It suddenly dawned on me that the man was single and apparently thought I still was! He continued to talk (and compliment me) and I began to notice he was still holding my hand from our initial handshake. And then his talk turned to the idea of destiny, including that it was more than a coincidence that we were involved at the same company, at the same event, and that it was fate that we meet.
I withdrew my hand as politely as I could, thanked him for his kind words, told him it had been a pleasure to meet him and added, “And what a blessing it is to get through those hard times! It’s so nice to be out of mine, to have life move on and to have it all come together again in great happiness.” (Or something like that. I was kind of flustered about the man’s mistaken impression and was almost panicked that I’d apparently given an auditorium of people the wrong impression about my marital status—despite the fact I’m very open about my marital status and I stood there wearing my wedding ring during my speech AND while meeting the single man!)
I went back to my work duties, laughed at that “unexpected” adventure and quickly forgot it. Until the next time the man sought me out. And the next time. And when his next conversation began with, “Can you believe we keep running into each other like this? It must be more than destiny!” (all the while, he’s clutching my hand in his) I began to think it was more than destiny too. I thought it was like many other travel experiences I’ve had—trips to Disneyland, cruises, whatever—where I’ve noticed the same person/family or run into the same person/family over and over again for a STRANGE reason (usually because they stand out because they’re “odd”!) I emphasized, again, that I was married and didn’t run into my new friend again after that. Adventure over.
Until I got home, returned to work, checked my email and had a new Facebook friend request! From you-know-who!
“Boldness be my friend.” (William Shakespeare)
“The view of Earth is spectacular.” (Sally Ride)
I was reminded of this during a vacation in Rome several years ago. We’d seen many of the well-known sights there and then one day, hired a car. The silver-haired, suave Italian driver spoke heavily accented English and promised us a day we’d always remember. He said he was going to show us HIS favorite places in Rome. First on his list? The embassy of Malta.
As we drove there, I began to think I’d understood him wrong. An Italian gentleman living in Rome, surrounded by literally ages of history and beauty…and he was taking us to another country’s embassy? And for what? I didn’t understand why, or the purpose of our drive up a winding road, but we carried on. When we arrived (sure enough, at the embassy of Malta—which appeared to be deserted as it was a national holiday) our driver had us all step out of the car and approach the door.
The doors were large, antique looking and had an old-fashioned yet elegant metal plate containing a large keyhole. The driver instructed us each to bend down, put our eye to the keyhole and look. I confess, I’ve never done anything like that in my life much less on a vacation, but I did it. As I bent down for a look, I half-expected guards or other officials to unexpectedly appear and haul us away for peeping or spying where we shouldn’t be. But instead, the result was a sight and a memory I’ll never forget. (In fact, it’s the ONE thing I tell everyone they have to do in Rome.)
Through the keyhole I saw an arched passageway covered in green vines leading to an opening at the end similar in size and shape to a large window which unfolded into a magnificently framed, unforgettable, incredibly picturesque view of the city. It was absolutely breathtaking. Something that can’t be experienced any other way but by making the effort to find Malta’s embassy, getting out of a comfortable and air conditioned car, walking to a closed door, bending down to squat in front of its keyhole and opening your eyes to the experience. (I know, because I tried over and over again to stick the lens of camera against the keyhole and get a picture of it. Most attempts didn’t really turn out, and the few that were somewhat visible simple were not representative of the sight. Somewhere in translation, the magic could not be captured.)
It’s a lot like life.
“Life is full of surprises and serendipity. Being open to unexpected turns in the road is an important part of success. If you try to plan every step, you may miss those wonderful twists and turns. Just find your next adventure, do it well, enjoy it…” (Condoleeza Rice)
We each are blessed with unexpected opportunities—some joyous, some unforgettable, most leading to growth or the expanding of our soul in one way or another, and literally all of them unanticipated. But by choosing to embrace them, being humble whatever the experience may be, we come out on the other side enriched, and the better for it. It always depends on you: What you choose to do with it. How you choose to look at it. What you decide to make of it or to let it make of you. After all, “From a dog’s point of view his master is an elongated and abnormally cunning dog.” (Mabel L. Robinson)
So enjoy the unexpected adventures and the opportunities you’re given to enhance your life perspective. You’ll be the better for it. You’ll become more than you otherwise would have.
And, if you’re ever in Rome, you know where to go.
In the midst of all the adventures—moves, work and everything else life brings—we had a very special one. My oldest son began the process of belong called to serve as a full-time missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
It was something I’d anticipated his entire life. You see, the majority of young men in the L.D.S. faith serve missions from the age of 19-21 years old. (You’ve probably seen them—clean cut young men, wearing white shirts and black name tags, walking or riding their bikes to meet with investigators, volunteering in the community and talking to people about faith, Jesus Christ and the gospel He taught.) When young men are of that age (or shortly before they turn 19) they submit their paperwork to serve a mission and then are called to serve where they are needed.
They don’t get to choose where they serve. Missionaries leave behind family, friends, work, sports, schooling and any other interests and dedicate their lives to their missionary service for two years. You don’t get to see them other than in the pictures they might send home. (They send letters and emails, they can call home twice each year, but other than that, they are focused on their mission and you don’t see them in person until they return home when their mission is completed.) And they pay all expenses associated with their missionary service.
I’d always hoped this son would choose to serve a mission. I’d planned he would serve a mission. I’d raised him to serve a mission. (I’m anticipating it for all of my sons.) But somehow, all too soon, the time is almost here.
He filled out his paperwork, met with the appropriate church leaders, and his papers were submitted to Salt Lake City for assignment. All that was left to do was wait for his mission call to arrive in the mail. (I think our official wait was actually less than 2 weeks by the time everything was submitted. But somehow it seemed longer than that. A lot was unknown, so it made the time seem to pass slowly.) In the meantime, I had no idea how stressed out I would become!
Lets just say this motherhood thing is a whole LOT more than I anticipated when I first became a mother. Those days, I remember sitting on the couch much of the day, holding and enjoying my newborn baby boy all day long, sometimes watching a video while he slept in my arms (I never wanted to put him down I was so thrilled to be a mom!) thinking, “I don’t know what all these mothers have been thinking and saying, insisting motherhood is such hard work! I don’t know what they think they are talking about!” I seriously thought they had to have exaggerated a little bit! (Ah…youth. And inexperience, huh?)
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting for that envelope to arrive.
And I, who rarely remembers that mail is delivered daily much less to pick up said mail from my mailbox, suddenly started checking the mail every day.
“I believe in opening mail once a month, whether it needs it or not.” (Bob Considine)
Waiting.
“Marriage is an adventure, like going to war.” (Gilbert K. Chesterton)
Just kidding.
It is an adventure for sure, but thank goodness, there aren’t a lot of battles at our house; just the occasional “differences of opinion.” The only problem? I never expected that. So it has been an adjustment for me.
I know “normal” people must think I’m crazy, or dishonest, when I say I didn’t expect many differences of opinion in my new marriage, but I didn’t experience a lot of disagreements or differences of opinion in my previous marriage. At the time, I thought it meant that my first husband and I were extremely compatible; now I see it could also have been the result of one of us living a double life that included dishonesty in many forms, on many levels, including a Ponzi scheme. I mean, what do you get when one spouse is living a lie and the other spouse doesn’t know? Not a lot to fight about!
So as I married #5, I was surprised at the number of “fights” we had (especially considering how much we have in common, how compatible we are, and that we were engaged plenty long–long enough to work everything out before marriage, right?) Actually, let me clarify that “fight” claim. According to #5, they aren’t fights; they are “differences of opinion.”
One day, in the middle of one such divergent opinion situation, #5 asked me what I thought. I said, “I’m thinking I don’t know how to be married to you.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“Because all we do is fight!” I replied.
At that, he began to laugh. “Andrea! These aren’t fights, I don’t think we’ve even had a fight yet. Sometimes I just have a different opinion than you do, and I share that, but we’re not fighting. We’re simply not of the same opinion on everything, and that’s ok. In fact, I think it’s healthy.”
Then he dropped a bombshell. ”But I AM thinking you haven’t had many people disagree with you in your life. You’re an oldest child, you have lots of opinions, you feel strongly about things, and you say what you think. I’m thinking there haven’t been many people who have dared disagree with you in your life, so this is an adjustment for you. But don’t worry, it’s good!”
Second marriage moment #14.
The realization that my husband may be right; learning that a difference of opinion in marriage isn’t abnormal and it isn’t a fight; remembering, again, that marriage teaches you SO much (not only about your partner and your companionship) but especially about yourself.
I didn’t expect that the second time around.
“I’m always making a comeback but nobody ever tells me where I’ve been.” (Billie Holiday)
I’m BA-ACK!
I’d love to report that I’ve just returned from some fabulous vacation or a tropical adventure to some exotic location but that isn’t quite the case. I’ve simply had computer issues and technical difficulties with this blog that wouldn’t allow me to post anything for awhile and wasn’t able to get them resolved until today. (My thanks to brilliant friends, former co-workers, and fabulous IT gurus at my place of employment that helped bring andreamerriman.com online again!)
Call it my comeback.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I ought to be used to them by now. Comebacks are…life.
Aren’t we always making a comeback from one thing or another?
“Comeback is a good word, man.” (Mickey Rourke)
Yep.
“The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.” (Joseph Campbell)
Because you never know where you’re going to find it. Case in point: my 10-year-old’s football team party to celebrate their season.
It took place in Utah County over the weekend. Due to a prior commitment, I was unable to attend so I asked my oldest to take his brother to the party. He didn’t go unwillingly, yet it probably wasn’t the thing he wanted most to do on a Saturday night. (I can’t blame him, he’s a senior in high school. I’m sure he had more “mature” plans.) I reminded him to look upon each opportunity as an adventure.
So he went. Anticipating an ordinary team celebration. But instead, texted me after they arrived at the address for the team party with this message: ”I’m in Larry King’s house!” (Yes, THE Larry King, of “Larry King Live.” Apparently, he has a connection to Utah and a home here.)
My boys had planned on enjoying a fun evening, spent with a football team comprised of 5th grade boys. What they got, instead, was that and a whole lot more: a rare brush with “celebrity” and the opportunity to do something out of the ordinary.
I could only ask this of my sons when they arrived home: “Aren’t you glad you said, ‘Yes?’ Aren’t you glad you went to the party?”
Life is kind of like that. You wake up every morning, face each new day and often, never imagine what great albeit unexpected opportunities will have been yours by the time you go to sleep that evening.
Just say, “Yes.”
And you’ll be guaranteed some memorable moments.
| “He’s had his ups and down. Now, it’s lately been nothing but ups.” (Larry King) |
“Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 30 feet tall.” (Larry Wilde, The Merry Book of Christmas)
Christmas. It’s in the air. Especially in Utah where there are radio stations that begin playing all Christmas music, all of the time…in October!
It causes me to reflect on Christmases past—and Christmas now.
I remember my first Christmas as a married woman, arriving home from work in the early darkness of a winter evening. As I drove up the street, approaching my little starter home, I could see lights BLAZING from a neighbor’s home (glowing in the fashion of the Griswold’s lit up home in “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” movie.) I laughed to myself, “Oh-ho! Now THERE is someone who loves Christmas! I’ve never seen so many lights, in person, on one house! I wonder who the Christmas fan is?”
And imagine my surprise, as I got closer to the spectacle, to see it was my house. Apparently, the fan was me.
Those were also the days of giant, towering, beautiful and majestic Christmas trees.
Enter the unexpected life.
Last year, Christmas was a bit of a struggle. Christmas 2009 was our first, on the heels of a lot of life change. It was lonely and worrisome. I’d never done Christmas lights before. I’d never set up a Christmas tree by myself before. I’d never had to earn my own money for Christmas gifts before. And despite the fact I felt quite healed from much of what had transpired earlier that year, I had to leave the celebration a few times and go up into my bedroom, alone, to cry.
But somehow we got through it.
My children and I had never set up a fake Christmas tree by ourselves before, but eventually we figured it out. (Ok, the honest truth is my daughter did!) My oldest son did our Christmas lights. (I drove home from work to discover all of our bushes illuminated. A special Christmas memory for my first Christmas as a single mother!) And an uncle, a family friend and a small bonus from work helped with the Christmas gifts.We held on to what traditions we could, let a few go and did some things in new and different ways.
Very similar to what you do when an unexpected life hits, actually. Cry, some. (If you’re like me.) Hold on to what you can, let a few things go, do some things in new and different ways and somehow, you get through it. You figure it out. And through it all, you get by with a little help from friends.
A year has passed. I like to (naively) believe we’ve gone through our “firsts” of everything although I’m learning that healing and life, including the unexpected one, is a process. Just when you think you’re healed or have learned what you needed to learn, occasionally something happens that shows you you’re not totally through the process. There’s a little bit left to heal. A little bit more to be conquered. Always more to learn. But with each passing day, and each challenge you rise above, you’re wiser, stronger, better, more capable and always able to see a new tender mercy or count an additional blessing.
And you can look back and see how you’ve grown. How far you’ve come.
For instance, this year, December 2010, yesterday, my children got our Christmas tree. While I was at work, they loaded in the car, drove to Home Depot, looked through all of the trees, chose the one they liked best, paid for it, hauled it home and I arrived home to a Christmas tree on our front porch! (In fact, the only thing they “forgot” to do was take a photo to document the experience.)
Today’s holiday adventure at the Merriman home will include hauling a real tree into the house and learning to master a Christmas tree stand. And if it’s like everything else, every other adventure we’ve encountered since entering our unexpected life, I’m pretty sure we’ll figure it out.
“An adventure may be worn as a muddy spot or it may be worn as a proud insignia. It is the woman wearing it who makes it the one thing or the other.” (Norma Shearer)
The unexpected life.
