Living Happily Ever After
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Look…See

Date: December 15, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

Step 6: Look for miracles and tender mercies in your life, they will be there, and be grateful for them.

“David Bednar said, “…Tender mercies are the very personal and individualized blessings, strength, protection, assurances, guidance, loving kindnesses, consolation, [and] support…which we receive.”

I received many tender mercies at a time when I seemed to have not much else.

For example, and as I’ve mentioned before, when people asked if I needed anything, I told them we were fine. And we were “fine.” We lived as scant an existence as possible and although we had food to eat, it was very basic food—NO extras of “fun” food. And then one day, a friend showed up with an entire carload of “fun” food from Costco: Mickey Mouse-shaped chicken nuggets, Oreos, chips, doughnuts, fruit snacks, crackers, juice, fresh fruit, all the fun “extras” when you’re eating and living as inexpensively as possible. My children were overjoyed! It was like Christmas to them (and they still talk about that delivery to this day.)

But the tender mercies didn’t end with Colorado.

I moved to Utah and began a new life feeling very much a failure. I didn’t think things could get any worse until they did—when I made the fateful error of heading to the grocery store on a Saturday night. I didn’t have anything else to do, I didn’t know anyone, I had to feed my kids, there was a big sale at a neighborhood grocery store, so off I went. I was convinced I was the only “loser” who grocery shopped on a Saturday night!

Every shopping cart that night appeared to be pushed by a happy, in love, couple with plenty of money to pay for their purchases. I had none of that anymore and had never felt so alone or worthless. When my shopping was done and just when I thought I couldn’t feel any lower, a car drove by me in the parking lot and the driver ridiculed my purchases through his open window. Those thoughtless words uttered by one man devastated me!

In the dark, tears welling in my eyes and feeling SO ALONE and appalled that apparently I couldn’t even purchase food for my children without being persecuted and wondering how I was going to endure the next 40-50 years of my new life, I unlocked by mar, turned to unload my cart, and was stunned to see a man standing there in the darkness. He had come from out of nowhere and without a word, grabbed the purchases from my cart and unloaded them into the back of my car.

When he was done, he paused for a moment, looked into my eyes, and smiled at me—a smile of compassion, and although it was dark, I noticed that his eyes were light blue, his skin was tan, his teeth were white and his hair was dark but slightly graying. And then without a word, he got into an older, dark-colored Suburban I suddenly noticed was parked next to me, and drove away.

I got in my car, completely changed, thanks to that anonymous man, whoever he was, and his kind service to me. For a brief moment I hadn’t been alone, a man had been kind to me (which I really needed at that stage of my life!) and for a moment I felt like everything was going to be ok.

I don’t believe anyone makes it through this life without problems and challenges and sometimes, tragedies and misfortunes. However, if we reach deep enough and look hard enough, we will see the miracles and tender mercies that are ours and will be able to feel and recognize just how much we have been given.

“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” (Henry David Thoreau)

The Patchwork Quilt Called Life

Date: November 23, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

When I was 12 years old, I was assigned to recite a poem about life. It was my first such recitation. And while I don’t know who wrote it, and after 33 years can’t remember all of it, I remember part of it went something like this:

“Life isn’t given us all of one piece, it’s more like a patchwork quilt,
Each hour and minute a patch to fit in, to the pattern that’s being built.

With some patches bright and some patches dark and some that seem ever so dull,
But if we were given to set some apart, we’d hardly know which to cull.”

The life concepts I gleaned from that poem were great for me to learn as a 12-year-old, and the older I’ve gotten and the longer I’ve lived (and the more challenges that have come to me) the more I’ve decided that if we’re wise, we’ll never abandon or give up on the quilting project of our life, but choose, instead, to keep quilting through all the patches. And we’ll be wiser yet, and a lot happier, if we choose to be grateful for all the pieces and patches of life: the bright, the dark, the good, the bad.

“It’s like this old patchwork quilt my momma used to have…Each piece on that quilt meant something. And some of those pieces were the [darn] ugliest things you’ve ever seen…But some of the pieces were so beautiful they almost hurt my eyes to look at when I was a kids…That’s the best you can hope for…That your life turns out like that patchwork quilt. That you can add some bright, sparkling pieces to the dirty, stained ones you have so far. That in the end, the bright patches might take up more space on your quilt than the dark ones.” (Brook McKinley, Shades of Gray)

 

And Dinner Was Served

Date: March 13, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Men are like fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and its our job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you’d like to have dinner with.” (Kathleen Mifsud)

Unless you’re #5 and you start out mature (ie. older) and YOU do the stomping by dumping your fiancee BEFORE dinner! It happened like this…

On that fateful Sunday night, #5 had invited his family to my home for dinner. He arrived early to help with preparations, all of our children were in the basement and we were in my kitchen. Somehow we got on the subject of two children (one of his, one of mine) and we had a disagreement.

“Thus, we see that one of the obvious origins of human disagreement lies in the use of noises for words.” (Algred Korzbyski)

He dug his heels in in defense of his son, I dug my heels in in defense of my son, and things degenerated from there. It got so petty we even argued about the boys’ ages. When I suggested his son was the older child so he should set more of the example, he corrected me, saying his son was just one year older so they were basically the same age. In a burst of maturity I got even more petty by correcting the age difference: “Well, if you’re going to get so specific and picky about it, your son is actually 19 MONTHS older–and two years older in school!” (Wow. 19 months. Two years in school.  That’s a lifetime. Petty, I know.)

Unexpectedly, he stood up and said he would get his son and leave. He had NEVER done that before, by the way. He turned and walked out of the room. I stood there, alone in my kitchen, stunned.

I was dumbfounded.

Leave? Because of a disagreement? When his family was due to arrive any minute? We hadn’t had many disagreements our entire engagement–I think I’ve chronicled all two of them–but he headed to the basement to call his son. For some reason, I followed him.

“You’re just going to leave?” I asked.

He was. He said he was sorry, but that he just couldn’t do it anymore. That maybe the timing was bad. That he’d never planned to get married until his son was 18, but then he’d met me and it had changed everything. However, after all of the time we had spent together and during the course of our long engagement, there were things that hadn’t changed and he didn’t know what else to do–so he was leaving.

I was appalled. “You’re going to leave, without even fighting FOR us?”

Before he could answer, in the pause, the doorbell rang.

His family.

It was like a bad movie.

Too late to leave, #5 expressed his displeasure with a roll of his eyes, muttered, “Oh, CRAP!” and then kicked into performer/entertainer mode. He answered the door with a smile, acted like everything was fine and normal, was friendly to everyone (except me) and prepared to serve dinner. Unfortunately, I’m not an actress.

His brother walked in, took one look at me and asked, “Andrea, are you all right?” To which I lied, “Yes, fine!” He looked at me, puzzled, and asked again, “Are you sure? You look tired or something.” I changed the subject and carried on. Or attempted to, anyway.

Later, as the kids came up for dinner, my high school son walked in, took one look at me and asked, “Mom? Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

And dinner was served.

“Here they are, top of the food chain, and dinner is served.” (Jeffrey Jones, “The Devil’s Advocate”)

Who’s Afraid of The Big, Bad…

Date: December 1, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The ads all call me fearless, but that’s just publicity. Anyone who thinks I’m not scared out of my mind whenever I do one of my stunts is crazier than I am.” (Jackie Chan)

I was always afraid of the dark. Even as a little girl, I made the frightful journey to my parents’ bedroom in the wee hours, every night, for protection. I hadn’t overcome that fear by the time I became a mother, so when my former husband traveled for business (ok, now I know that wasn’t the truth, but that is what I thought was taking place back then!) each night I invited my children to sleep in my room under the guise of a “slumber party.” After they fell asleep, I’d shut and lock my master bedroom door and move a piece of furniture in front of it for protection before I crawled into my bed, to lie there with my heart pounding most of the night, unable to sleep.

Crazy behavior, but true. Just ask my friend and former neighbor, Geoff, who got a frantic call from me at 2 a.m. one night in 2001. I will love him forever for not only coming to my home in the middle of a freezing winter night to ensure every room and closet on every floor of my home was intruder free, but for humoring my fear by bringing a baseball bat with him as he searched, as well as for having the good grace to EVER speak to me again after that!

Then my unexpected life began. I was thrust into terrifying darkness that extended beyond the night.  I was scared out of my mind. I didn’t just fear the future or the nighttime (by then, sleep was impossible), I even began to fear the doorbell. Because that meant I’d have to open my front door.

I know fear isn’t always rational, and mine was no exception. I began to fear not just who would ring my doorbell—we had lived through more than our fair share of hostile and angry clients/victims who had appeared at our front door to vent their hostility and rage about what my former husband had done toward me and my children—but what would happen should I dare answer the door? Would someone yell at me, would someone serve me with papers for a frivilous, groundless lawsuit simply because I had unknowingly been married to a criminal or even worse, would someone “snap” emotionally because of their loss…and shoot me? Like I said, my fear was not rational.  However, I had been thrust into a life that had been inconceivable to me, so at that point, I felt anything, including anything scary, was possible. (Violence and threat of violence was also something government officials and attorneys had warned me about. In fact, they checked with me periodically to make sure I hadn’t been threatened and that I felt “safe.” And now this blog proves I wasn’t completely truthful. Oops! No one threatened me, but obviously, I didn’t feel safe! I was just too embarrassed to say it. I felt there had been enough drama.)

One day, the doorbell rang. As I approached, through the frosted glass I could see the blurry figure of a large man wearing a dark jacket and sunglasses. I could see some type of metal, electronic device, possibly a gun, in his hand. I suddenly got VERY afraid. I can’t describe the terror I felt. In seconds I waged an epic battle within myself: answer or not answer the door.

“And so it begins,” I thought. My fears had become my reality.

I realized I couldn’t not answer the door the rest of my life.  And I certainly couldn’t live in fear the rest of my life. So I decided to open the door and face whatever consequence that decision brought me. Even if it meant death.

I grasped the knob and slowly opened the door. I cautiously peered out, prepared to meet my fate, and faced the man. He was tall, muscular, dressed in a nondescript navy jacket (just like I imagine assassins wear), and who knew what manner of evil design was hidden behind his reflective eye wear? I can’t imagine the expression on my face, or what the man saw when I opened the door, because he immediately jumped back, put his hands in the air, and said, “Ma’am! It’s ok! I’m not here to hurt you! I’m just the Schwann man! I’m here to sell you some ice cream!”

I’m sure he had no idea whose bell he had rung, what infamous front porch he was standing on. Although my home had been splashed across televisions nationwide, I guess he was too busy selling Schwann products to have seen it.

Sometimes you just have to shake your head and laugh. At yourself. And the crazy things you fear. Like the ice cream man. Really.

In the unexpected life we face scary things every day. Yet confronting the hard stuff, for me, was the secret to rising above it. In fact, it’s the only way to overcome it: open the door (it can be quite a stunt), look your fear in the eye and if you’re lucky, like me, you’ll find ice cream!

“He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

Just ask the Schwann man.

The Unexpected Life We Call Halloween

Date: October 31, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Charlie Brown is the one person I identify with.  C.B. is such a loser.  He wasn’t even the star of his own Halloween special.” (Chris Rock)

Sometimes the unexpected life feels like Halloween.

You’re thrust into a situation that feels strangely akin to a nightmare. It’s dark. You’re afraid. You can’t figure out how you got there. You wonder how you’ll ever overcome all of the scary things that jump out at you around every corner. And the best part? You feel like such a loser.

I wish I had all of the secrets and answers to dealing with the unexpected life. A magic formula that takes the fear away, boosts self-esteem so no one feels like the loser I did and makes success despite the unexpected obstacles guaranteed. Unfortunately, I don’t think anything like that exists. If it did, there would be no unexpected life.

But here’s one thing that helped me: despite my unexpected life, I didn’t change my goals. I had to adjust my expectations regarding my starting point, how long it would take me to achieve them and I had to acknowledge I would be reaching my goals in entirely different ways; but I didn’t abandon them.

My mom taught me that. She said unexpected things happen, but you have to keep living and striving to reach your goals. For example, you might be a college student with a “scholarship” funded by your father–when he dies unexpectedly in an airplane crash and you lose not only your parent, but your source of advice, your biggest fan and your financial backing for everything. In the unexpected life, it’s vital that you don’t quit; you can’t abandon your goal. You just have to figure out new ways to achieve it. You sell your car, you get a job, you get a second job, you take as many credit hours as you possibly can and go to classes year-round to finish faster, you don’t take a vacation, you quit shopping; you do whatever it takes to graduate with your degree. (I promise, it will serve you well when the next phase of your unexpected life hits decades later! So NEVER abandon your goal.)

By not quitting, you are on the path to eventual greatness. “Greatness is not measured by what a man or woman accomplishes, but by the opposition he or she has overcome to reach his goals.” (Dorothy Height)

When my unexpected life hit last year, quitting wasn’t an option. As much as in some moments I felt like walking off into the sunset alone and dropping off the face of the earth, I couldn’t let myself do that. I knew what was expected of me, I knew the right response, I had children who needed me, I had my children to set an example for, so I had to carry on. My goals remained the same: raise a strong and united family; help my children grow to become law abiding (o.k., so I added that to my goals–I hadn’t considered any other course was an option prior to my ex-husband breaking the law!) productive, capable, self-reliant adults; educate my children; and achieve happiness, seeking to be happy all along the way. In other words, create a “happily ever after.”

Doing all of that can be difficult. Scary is an understatement. Some days you don’t know how it will be possible, how things will fall into place the way you need them to. In fact, sometimes they don’t, and you have additional challenges to overcome. But you press forward anyway, power through the hard stuff, try to smile along the way and hopefully, eventually, walk out into the light!

It’s no secret. Some moments all you can do is pray, seek to find something to be grateful for, “go to work” and endure the rest until you overcome.

But I promise it’s worth it.

Like the end of every episode of “Scooby Doo,” when the ghosts and monsters have been quashed and Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby are rolling down the highway in The Mystery Machine and everything’s groovy again, it will be that way again for you, too. One day you’ll have employment, a roof over your head, food on the table, you’ll see your children thriving despite everything and that they’ve learned important things that will serve them well the rest of their lives, that the smiles are real again and that you’re happy. Possibly happier and more content than you’ve ever been. (And if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even have a Bachelor #5 or an Agent M to boot!)

Who knows? In the unexpected life, EVERYTHING is possible!

“Hold on, man.  We don’t go anywhere with “scary,” “spooky,” “haunted,” or “forbidden” in the title.”  (Scooby-Doo)

Except…in the unexpected life.

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.

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.

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.

REALLY Fast

Date: September 8, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark.” (Muhammad Ali)

I’m thinking Bachelor #5 could have given Muhammad Ali a run for his money. I didn’t have an answer to the marriage question, much less the idea of September, all I could say was, “THAT is REALLY fast!”

And as Bachelor #5 acknowledged it was fast, he didn’t let me off the hook by saying, “no pressure,” and I sure felt the difference! I finally felt some pressure to begin thinking about things in earnest. However, I wasn’t sure I could decide such an important thing at that stage of my life, much less on a “deadline.”

“Oh! do not attack me with your watch. A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch.” (Jane Austen)

Bachelor #5 added, “And when you decide, if you decide the way I hope you do, you only have to say two words, ‘It’s time,’ and I’ll take care of the rest. That’s all I want to hear, ‘It’s time’.”

I didn’t know what I was going to decide. But I owed it to myself, my children and Bachelor #5 to make a decision. It was time to get serious with my thoughts.

Very serious.

“I hope life isn’t a big joke, because I don’t get it.” (Jack Handey, SNL)

Schmuck Of The Week

Date: May 25, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I read in the media one day that Shawn Merriman (my husband, at the time he was nominated for the dubious distinction) was the “Schmuck of The Week,” and in the forerunning for the “Schmuck of The Year.”

How does it feel to be married, or to have been married, to the “Schmuck of The Week”? It’s a little bit of a dark spot in the otherwise bright existence, overall, I like to think of as my unexpected life. But not as dark as some moments. Like another dark day of last August 2009, the day He was formally charged by the U.S. attorney’s office and taken into custody.

It was a necessary step in the administration of consequences of the crimes He committed by running a Ponzi scheme for 15 years and stealing approximately $20 million from multiple victims. (I’m not saying he didn’t deserve the consequences. I’m simply saying it was another sad, tragic day in what had become many since the revelations of the crimes He had committed.)

We were divorced, but He called me that morning (basically because He had no one else to call) to say goodbye. I felt as if he were saying goodbye before heading to the electric chair. We’d been living in limbo, to some degree, prior to that day and it had finally arrived. I knew it was coming. I just could NOT comprehend it had actually arrived.

I worked all day, tried to focus on my projects, and the minutes ticked by on the clock. It was a very long day.

Periodically (at lunch or on a break) I’d check the internet for media coverage–any word of what, if anything, had transpired a state away. Nothing. It was my secret vigil. No one knew that while I was working in Utah, my former spouse was heading to jail in Colorado. It was a challenge of epic proportions: to keep my mind on my work and the tasks at hand…while waiting for word and publicity of something so dark for our family.

And then late in the afternoon, although I had to have been expecting it because I’d been looking for it all day, suddenly…it was there. I had intentionally sought the information, yet I was stunned when it actually popped up on my computer screen! I’d been on pins and needles all day. I’d had a pit in my stomach for hours. For good reason.

The media reported the whole thing, including federal marshals “clasping handcuffs on the accused Ponzi schemer Shawn Merriman in federal court” and the courtroom of smiling victims errupting in cheers and applause. One victim commented, “That was us clapping hard.”

It sickened me.

I went in the bathroom and didn’t just cry. I think I threw up. I was filled with dread at what had transpired, and I was absolutely sickened at the behavior of some. What kind of people exult in the demise of another–regardless of what that person has done?

“How could man rejoice in victory and delight in the slaughter of men?” (Lao Tzu)

It caused some serious introspection on my part. I tried hard to think of anything anyone could do that would make me smile, clap and cheer at the demise of another. Thankfully, I couldn’t think of an instance. And I hope I never can. I think I will have lost some part of me, some degree of goodness or compassion or humanity (I don’t know what you call it), if I ever allow myself to exult in the tragedy and demise of another regardless of whether or not some may judge it to be deserved.

Another victim commented, “There won’t be justice.”

They’re probably right. I know I will never have “justice” in this life. And I’m ok with that. That isn’t why I believe I’m here; it isn’t what I am about. Even little kids know life isn’t fair, don’t they? If life were “fair” a lot of things would be different, including justice. But would we be better if it were? Would we learn what we need to know? Based on the behavior of those wronged by my former spouse, I have to wonder.

And in the midst of my musings, I had to commute home and prepare to face my children. I had to look in their eyes, and watch their expressions, I had to comfort them in their tears when they learned what had taken place that day.

Another strange state of existence that day was the fact that for the first time since 1989, I didn’t know where He was, how to reach Him, what He was enduring, how He was being treated, or how I could contact Him for the sake of our children.

Not a fun day. Slightly less fun than having once had marital ties to the “Schmuck of The Week!”

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