Living Happily Ever After
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Better Than Spock

Date: November 25, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“My first crush was Spock. I thought it didn’t get any better than Spock.” (Selma Blair)

Selma’s wrong. It does get better. Donny TOTALLY beats Spock! No contest.

I know, because I met him. (It was work related, I’m in PR and he’s the spokesperson for my company’s product.)

I’m too old and sensible to have been starstruck when I first met Donny Osmond (or maybe it’s that I was too frazzled  to stop and think about the fact I was meeting a celebrity because I was late—just the kind of thing you want to be when you’re meeting a legendary entertainer, beloved by generations, for the very first time.) But I confess I found Donny absolutely professional, energetic, friendly, looking and acting much younger than his chronological age. However, despite his accomplishments and talents, I came away from meeting him for the first time convinced that his greatest talent may be his people skills—remembering names, calling people by their names, making everyone feel at ease around him, his friendly manner, etc…It was very impressive.

Not only that, Donny is wise: ”If you’re climbing the ladder of life, you go rung by rung, one step at a time. Don’t look too far up, set your goals high but take one step at a time. Sometimes you don’t think you’re progressing until you step back and see how high you’ve really gone.” So true.

Donny has values: “My father instilled in me the attitude of prevailing. If there’s a challenge, go for it. If there’s a wall to break down, break it down.” Go, Donny.

And he’s genuine: “I never smile unless I mean it.” :)

Although I interact with Donny in a professional capacity, I remain a fan. In fact, I’m an even bigger fan having met him and because I work with him. I also admire his humility. When he emails it’s “Hi Andrea, Donny Osmond here…” (as if I might not know who he is if he didn’t tell me!)

Yep, the unexpected life takes us down some very unusual paths. When my old life fell apart in 2009 and I thought my world had ended, or in those early days following my return to the workforce when I fled to the women’s restroom several times each day and cried over having to leave my children all day and work full-time for the rest of my life, I confess I never saw Donny Osmond in my future.

“All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

Still experimenting…in the unexpected life.

One Unexpected Adventure…Revealed

Date: November 24, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“When I was a child I had a crush on Abraham Lincoln. Why I would choose to reveal this, I know not.” (Julia Roberts)

Revelation time.

I’ve had a few crushes in my day.

Not only that, I have something in common with Janet Jackson who revealed, “My first crush was Barry Manilow. He performed on TV and I taped it. When no one was around I’d kiss the screen.” Let me clarify: I have the crush part, NOT the kissing the screen part, in common with Janet.

When I was a child I also had a crushes on Mike Smith (a little boy in 1st grade–but the crush soured, sadly, when Mike gave me a heart-shaped box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day that was too big to fit in my desk and my classmates teased me about it!); Tim Horn (a boy in my 2nd grade class); The Lettermen; Shaun Cassidy; Kurt Russell; the buck-toothed boy from Disney’s original “Escape To Witch Mountain;” Stewart Peterson; and Donny Osmond.

I remember several nights as a child, arguing with my cousin, Athena, about our Donny Osmond crushes and who “got him.” Athena never failed to insist, “I get Donny because I’m older than you and closer to his age, you can have Jimmy—because you’re younger.” But I didn’t want Jimmy Osmond, I had a crush on Donny!

I even watched “The Donny & Marie Show” each week and I knew every song on their “Deep Purple” album by heart! And then Donny filmed “Goin’ Coconuts,” he married, and I grew up—and experienced many other crushes, but those are another blog post. (It did strike me as ironic, and funny, however, that as I drove off “just married” in 1989—my first marriage—Donny Osmond’s “Soldier of Love” was playing on the radio! A fitting conclusion to my childhood.)

I was married for 20 years, and happily so. I was a mother of four children, absolutely fulfilled in devoting my life and my efforts to my husband, children, home and church and community service. And then, in one moment, on one day, it all ended. Oh, the bleak and black absolute despair I felt! Indescribable. Within a few months I found myself divorced, single, working full-time and living in Utah attempting to create a new life for myself and my children as I raised my four kids alone. I carried on, but a big part of my shattered heart was sure I’d had my turn. That every good thing that was ever going to come to me was in the past.

And then, unexpectedly, I fell in love and got married again. Now I have a crush on my husband.

Even more unexpected: the day I found myself driving through the roads of Utah County in my trusty Subaru Outback station wagon to have lunch with…Donny Osmond!

All I can say is that if anyone had told me when my life fell apart in 2009 that lunch with Donny Osmond was in my future as part of my unexpected life, I’d NEVER have believed it! But it’s true.

“Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what’s for lunch.” (Orson Welles)

“I Love You”

Date: May 31, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Where lipstick is concerned, the important thing is not color, but to accept God’s final word on where your lips end.” (Jerry Seinfeld)

I walked into my bathroom the other day and found a message from #5:  ”I Love You.” Written with Mac lip liner pencil on the mirror. (He said he couldn’t find my lipstick!) It was totally unexpected and it delighted me. Other than the boy I had a crush on when I was a teenager who “soaped” the windows in my bedroom and bathroom with fun messages when I turned 16 and could finally date him, I can’t recall anyone ever doing anything like that for me before.

Second marriage moment #13; followed closely by #13a and #13b.

Shortly after I found the love message, my five year old wandered into the bathroom. ”What’s that?” he asked.

“It says, ‘I Love You,’ and it’s from daddy to me,” I replied.

“How did he get it on there?” he asked.

I explained that it was written with lipstick, wasn’t that fun? He agreed, and got a big grin on his face. In the aftermath of the trauma we lived through two years ago, I confess, I’m always looking for signs that my children are healing, doing well, are happy and feeling secure in their young lives once again. Right about the time I started to think he must be feeling safe and secure knowing his new daddy love his mommy, he instead said, “Cool! I didn’t know we could write on mirrors!” (#13a)

I instantly realized my mistake and clarified that only daddies and mommies can write love notes to each other on mirrors. He was disappointed, but headed out to play while I breathed a huge sigh of relief that I had narrowly avoided who-knows-WHAT disaster should my youngest decide to add writing with lipstick to his creative arsenal.

But in a remarriage, if it’s not one thing, it’s another! For example, you can’t just quietly and privately enjoy a romantic message from your new husband. Especially if you have 8 children.

The next time I walked into the bathroom and felt my heart give a little leap at the sight, again, of the “I Love You” from #5, I saw a new message had been added below the original. “Ahhh, gee thanks!” Written by someone else. (Based on the handwriting, I think it was my 18-year-old.)

Second marriage moment #13b? The delight of having young adult children offer their take, and respond to, love notes from your husband!

“I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you.” (Ben Folds)

Or write…on the bathroom mirror!

First Date

Date: May 21, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“If you’re a young Mafia gangster out on your first date, I bet it’s real embarrassing if someone tries to kill you.” (Jack Handy)

Who can forget their first date?

My mom fondly recalled her first date many times over the course of my life: she was 5 years old, and went to a movie at a movie theater with a boy and his parents. She was a friendly gal, and dated a lot during her childhood and early teens, and then it was recommended by L.D.S. church leaders that dating be delayed until the age of 16 so she stopped dating–until she turned 16 years old!

I remember my first date: Derek.

It was late August 1983 after I had turned 16 years old. The boy I’d had a crush on since the moment I first laid eyes on him (at 14 years old) had asked me out and my friend, Carrie, had come over to help me get ready. I talked and hung out with her while I did my hair and makeup and decided what to wear–and she gave me a pedicure, which I promptly covered up when I put my Topsiders on! It was the 1980s, so of course my hair was something to behold, and accented by the skinny tie (anyone remember wearing those?) that completed my ensemble. We saw the movie, “Strange Brew,” and had a great time. It was a first date with no regrets, or embarrassing moments, that I can recall.

My daughter’s first date was an entirely different experience: Eric.

She went to a school dance with the boy she sits by in Chemistry class, a fun and casual friend. Watching my daughter get ready, and helping her, was a total flashback to the 1980s as she was headed to a decades-themed dance and she and her date had chosen 1980s exercise wear. I helped her find a Jelly belt, tear her sweatshirt to hang off the shoulder, find neon-colored tank tops to layer, get her hair in THE  high side ponytail, with her green eyeshadow (what can I say, we couldn’t find any blue eyeshadow in the house!) and with her hot pink headband (just like Olivia Newton John’s in “Lets Get Physical.”) It wasn’t in the original plan that my daughter drive on the date, but due to car troubles of other parties involved, she ended up driving her car. And accidentally, while slowly backing up, she backed into a friend’s car.

It was dark. Neither she nor her date saw the other car. Thankfully, she backs up really slowly. Thankfully, no damage occurred to either car or to any living being. In fact, the driver of the other car got out, hugged my daughter and told her it was no big deal. I was very relieved there was no damage to people or automobiles; but my daughter was so mortified about the whole thing she wasn’t even dwelling on that. That event overshadowed every other aspect of her first date. That event was what she talked about when she got home. Even late the NEXT evening she was still worrying about it, alone in her bedroom, so I went to check on her.

She was absolutely humiliated, mortified, and didn’t want to show her face anywhere, ever, again. I tried to help her put it into perspective so I said, “Sarah, you can survive this. Just think of other hugely embarrassing things you’ve overcome.”

“Like what?” she asked.

I was stunned. Had the events of 2009 faded that fast in her teenage mind? I clarified, “Like discovering a family member stole millions of dollars, was heading to prison, it was all over the national media, we lost everything and had to watch the government come into our home and take our possessions, some people were mean to us, other people were kind to us yet we had to rely on the charity of others…ALL of those embarrassing moments we endured. If you can survive that humiliation, you can get through anything! This is nothing compared to that.”

Adding that last sentence reminded me that embarrassment and humiliation is all in your perspective. It was also a mistake; add it to the many that continually stream from my mouth, far too often, as I say what I think pretty much as soon as I think it. Call it one of my many weaknesses.

My daughter countered that her experience was far more embarrassing than the one I referenced. I was stunned! I couldn’t believe she really thought that, but she did. She drove her point home (no pun intended, lol!) when she added, “And Mom, if you think criminals, Ponzi schemes, publicity, divorce, prison, crime, government seizure and everything else is more embarrassing than backing into another car on a date…you don’t know ANYTHING about teenage girls!”

Wow. How could I have gotten so old and so far removed from being a teenage girl? And how could I have failed my daughter like that?

You see, one of the great things about being my mother’s daughter is that no matter my embarrassing moment, when I returned home mortified about something that had happened to me, my mom could totally commiserate and share an embarrassing moment from her life that absolutely outdid mine, made me laugh and made me feel so much better about my humiliation! In fact, she survived such mortification that as an adult, friends would call after something embarrassing and ask, “Tell me a story about your mom to make me feel better so I can get through this most recent humiliation.” I thought that’s what mothers are for–and I wasn’t able to do that for mine! (Although I must be blinded by my past, because I could swear 2009 is the ultimate in humiliation. I can’t see myself ever being embarrassed about anything again, after that one!)

So I quit trying to reason with my daughter, stopped attempting to help her put embarrassment into perspective and just empathized with her. I promised that someday, we will look back on her first date…and laugh; we’ll even be the better for it, and we’ll be strong.

“But I learned that there’s a certain character that can be built from embarrassing yourself endlessly. If you can sit happy with embarrassment, there’s not much else that can really get to ya.” (Christian Bale)

Now if we can only be totally hot when we have as much character, strength and wisdom as Batman, we’ll be absolutely set for…The Unexpected Life.

Life Lesson From The Ski Hill

Date: November 2, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Too bad Lassie didn’t know how to ice skate, because then if she was in Holland on vacation in winter and someone said, ‘Lassie, go skate for help,’ she could do it.” (Jack Handy)

You can’t grow up in Colorado without learning to ski. And you can’t be raised by a ski enthusiast (like I was) without skiing practically every weekend of the year that the resorts are open–blizzard or shine. Such was my childhood, such was my life. I just had no idea it was preparing me for the real thing.

I was about 4 years old when I rode my first poma lift and experienced my first bunny hill. I didn’t grasp a lot of the concept of skiing, mostly I just rode my skis between my dad’s and held on for the ride. I remember the day was pleasant and sunny, and I remember what I was wearing: maroon knit stretch pants with stirrup straps on the bottom, and a turtleneck sweater. You may think it’s strange I remember what I was wearing that day, despite my young age. But I remember because of what happened.

“Stretch pants – the garment that made skiing a spectator sport.” (Author Unknown)

When I tired of skiing, I played in the snow and around the lodge while my dad got in some real runs on slopes more advanced than the bunny hill. In my wanderings, I saw a dog that looked exactly like Lassie. I LOVED Lassie and made a beeline for her before my mom could stop me. “Lassie” bit a hole in my ski pants that cut all the way through to my leg; it was then I realized she was no  Lassie. I went home tired, dog-bitten, tear-stained and not entirely in love with the sport–not to mention upset that the ski pants I loved were ruined.

My dad didn’t let me quit. The next year, he took us skiing again. This time I skied on my own. My memory of this ski trip exists solely of following my dad down the hill and falling into the  horizontal “splits” position, face down in the snow. I’ve never been flexible, not even as a child; I was in pain, and I couldn’t move. In trying to help me, my mom and my sister ended up in the same position, splits, face down in the snow. And we had to stay that way for the time it took for my dad to hear us calling him for help; for him to stop and yell encouragement to us to rescue ourselves, and finally, for my dad to side step all the way up the hill to help us when we couldn’t help ourselves.

But again, my dad didn’t let me quit.

It was 1974. I was in second grade. And this time, my dad hired a private instructor named Bruce to teach my sister and me how to ski. I was only seven years old, but I had such a crush on dark-haired, tan-skinned, patient and nice, happy and handsome Bruce. And it’s a good thing I loved him, because I didn’t love what he taught me. I did as he instructed, but I did everything not for the love of skiing, but for the love of Bruce. For example, my entire first day of skiing consisted of side-stepping up hills on my skis! Not fun. But you have to endure the “hard stuff” to get to the ease of the downhill experience.

Eventually I learned to ski. I skied anywhere and everywhere my dad led me. In fact, I was in college (and skiing alone for the first time, without my dad) when I learned ski hills were rated for difficulty. My entire life I had simply followed in my father’s footsteps, or ski tracks, to be exact.

So there I was, in 2009, breezing down the slopes of life when an avalanche hit. I was knocked off the mountain of my life and buried under the heavy snow of a disaster of epic proportions. But I couldn’t quit. I had the beacon of a lifetime of teachings and parental example to guide me; I knew what was expected of me; and I never considered anything but digging myself out of my misery.

Because in life, as in winter, when snow falls, you shovel it. You clear pathways so you can get around and continue to live your life. You endure the storm that brought the snow. You wait out the cold. You have to admire the beauty of the snowy landscape–even if you don’t love the storm that brought it. And eventually, the snow melts and life returns to normal…until the next big storm hits. When you fall, you don’t quit skiing. You pick yourself up, side-step up the hill if you need to, but you always get back on the slopes.

How grateful I am for a dad who taught me how to ski; who didn’t let me quit when the going was rough, painful, or cold; who led by example and made it easier for me by carving tracks down the mountains all I had to do was follow. Who made me expert in navigating rocky terrain. And who prepared me for any and every slope, not matter how steep or the amount of moguls, I’ve ever encountered.

“Skiing combines outdoor fun with knocking down trees with your face.” (Dave Barry)

And I think it’s an apt description of the unexpected life, too.

The “Rich Life”

Date: October 21, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The secret to a rich life is to have more beginnings than endings.” (David Weinbaum)

I’ve had a lot of chapters in my life close, and I’ve had some new chapters in my life begin. Here’s one I don’t think I’ve mentioned before.

While my 20 year marriage was ending in the worst possible way–I couldn’t have dreamt up all of the circumstances, not even in a nightmare, it was just so outside my realm of possibilities–my oldest was experiencing his own beginning.

He met a cute girl at a dance, developed his first crush, turned 16, went on his first date and somehow ended up with his first girlfriend. (I don’t typically advocate steady relationships for teens, but this situation proved to be a great distraction for my son from the other events in our life. Plus, I knew we were moving in a few short months.)

The girl came from a good family and was not only a good girl, a beautiful girl, and an intelligent girl but also a scrapper. (If I could have hand picked a girl for my son at that time, she would have been it.) Shortly after my son found out about his dad’s crime and pending incarceration, he worried, “No girl is going to like me now.” I have to admit, I was a bit worried about that too based on the fact that I was getting more than my fair share of animosity from some people. But he needn’t have worried.

Not one kid at his school brought up his disastrous personal situation. No one was mean to him; no one teased him. In fact, he went to a very integrated high school with students from all walks of life and that situation couldn’t have been better for him at that time. While I initially tried to prepare him for possible ostracism at school, suddenly something dawned on him and he joked, “Mom, it’s going to be ok! I just realized I’m probably not the only kid at my school with a parent in prison! I guarantee it!”

And the girl didn’t care. She got him a birthday gift and took him to a Colorado Avalanche hockey game for their first date. She was a help and a friend to my other children as well. And in between all of the fun, the girl was online defending our family from malicious comments posted in the media!

It was a little bit surreal to be living amid the devastation of my life and love while watching my teenage son begin his. He had his first crush. I had divorce unexpectedly looming on my horizon. Yet at the same time, it was fun to watch my son make a new friend, date her and experience his “first” crush. I was so happy for him, it gave us something fun to enjoy and delight in, and I confess it sparked some glimmers of hope within me that made me begin to dream that all of that might again be mine someday; that there just might be richness and joy yet to experience in my own life if I held on and didn’t give up hope.

“The marvelous richness of human experience would lose something of rewarding joy if there were no limitations to overcome. The hilltop hour would not be half so wonderful if there were no dark valleys to traverse.” (Helen Keller)

There were dark valleys to traverse, darker and deeper than I’d ever imagined. But the view from the top, now, couldn’t be more wonderful.

I’m rich.

For real.

And I’m not talking about money.