Living Happily Ever After
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Blog Articles

Magic

Date: January 16, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Her godmother simply touched her with her wand, and, at the same moment, her clothes were turned into cloth of gold and silver, all decked with jewels.” (Charles Perrault)

I’ve probably mentioned it before, but I was a girl raised on fairy tales. My mom read them to me every day. In fact, my earliest recollections of “art” are the illustrations that were in my fairy tale books. I loved every magical ending to every magical story. And I confess, I think fairy tales contributed a little bit in the formation of my dreams.

Ah, happy endings and fairy godmothers!

Have you ever wished you had a fairy godmother?

I have—on more than one occasion. As a little girl, I dreamed of a fairy godmother who would instinctively know when I needed her (aka. when I was alone and crying in my garden, let’s say), who would show up in the blink of an eye, transform me into a beautiful woman with a dazzling wardrobe, jewels and even a pair of my very own glass slippers; and then would vanish with a “poof” and maybe a little trace of glitter. But everything would be all right again. (Translation: easy.)

As I got older and life got a lot more real, visions of a way out of some of my challenges with a simple wave of a wand overshadowed any childish fantasy of fashion. Wouldn’t it be a dream to escape a trying circumstance without having to pass through it, via a magic wand? Bummer to not have a magic wand when you really need one!

The reality of life, especially the unexpected one, is that “There is no magic wand that can resolve our problems. The solution rests with our work and discipline.” (Jose Eduardo Dos Santos) Our magic wand is actually our labor. The “magic” we put to work to better ourselves or our situation; what we do to help create our fairy tale ending despite the loss of our prince, castle or pumpkin coach.

And as I think about that, and what my unexpected life has taught me is…that’s really all you need. A willingness to work hard, carry on and to never give up despite the setbacks.

Oh. And maybe a little bit of pixie dust.

Yahtzee

Date: November 12, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else.” (Albert Einstein)

The other night Bachelor #5 came over with the game, “Yahtzee.” He sat down, set it up to play, and when I asked, “Ok, now what do we do?”…you should have SEEN the look he gave me! It was almost a rolling of the eyes.

“What?” I asked.

He replied, “How do you get to be THIS old…and have never played Yahtzee?” (Do you think he’s getting me back for the age issues I had to overcome? Or the old age comments that occasionally slip out? )

So he taught me (and my two youngest) how to play. I couldn’t help but notice what a great approach to life the game of Yahtzee is.

You roll five dice each turn. And no matter what you roll, you can make it count for something you need. You get three rolls and opportunities to do that each turn, and then it’s on to the next player. The game continues as you work your way down a list of things you need to make happen–1s, 2s, 3s, three of a kind, four of a kind, chance, Yahtzee, etc…And in the end, the person with the highest score “wins.”

Yes, life is a game of Yahtzee. Sometimes a really unfair one, when the little blue cup seems filled with dice that are stacked against you. But that’s not the point. The point is what you do each time you roll with what you roll. No matter what comes up, you have the opportunity to look at what you’ve rolled, consider your prospects, look for what’s good, figure out how to make it work, and hopefully tally it all up for a win in the end.

I have been given some difficult scenarios in my life; I’ve rolled some bummer combinations. (Some were so daunting I’d have gladly traded places with just about anyone!) Each time, I had to look at what I was facing, look at what I could do with it, and work as hard as I could to make it happen–while counting on a miracle. And I have to say, life has worked out every time although not necessarily the way I planned it or thought it would. The “rolls,” many times, have turned out to be blessings.

So whether or not you’re looking at snake eyes or doubles, your score will be just what it needs to be in the end. I bet you’ll even be happy with it, as long as you keep rolling the dice you’re dealt and making the best you can out of your roll.

Keep rollin’.

“Give me today, for once, the worst throw of your dice, destiny. Today I transmute everything into gold.” (Frederick Nietzsche)

 

A Miracle

Date: October 13, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Miracles happen to those who believe in them.” (Bernard Berenson)

One year ago, my oldest was having a rough time–and who could blame him?

He has always been an easygoing, level headed, great kid so some moments of grumpiness and impatience on his part, as he adjusted to his unexpected life, stood out like a sore thumb. I had a chat with him.

He cried and cried about how bad things were. He had no friends, no passion for sports, no life, no anything. I’ll never forget how he sobbed and sobbed; his heart broken. I could relate to everything he said because deep in the recesses of my soul I felt like I was living a life like that, too, I just wouldn’t let myself acknowledge it out loud. But I was old. He was only 16.

I cried with him and for him. I had wanted SO MUCH MORE for him. I couldn’t understand how my innocent children had ended up with such a mess. (Actually, yes I could. I knew I had chosen their father–which gave me a huge burden of guilt to bear for the part I played in bringing such horror to their childhood.) I didn’t know why they had to go through what they did, what I could do for them or how I could help them through it.

I needed a miracle. A serious miracle.

One year later, I have to acknowledge, again, that I got one. In fact, my family and I have received countless miracles and blessings. And nothing is as priceless as the miracle of light after incredible darkness and despair (aka. the unexpected life.)

“We can only appreciate the miracle of a sunrise if we have waited in the darkness”

Here’s just one example.

Today, this same child, is a senior in high school. He has great friends. He has created an amazing life for himself and keeps busy with school, work and social and sports activities. He went to homecoming this year with the homecoming queen. After only one season of play with his high school team hockey team, he has been selected team captain. Additionally, he has the privilege of practicing with his dream team–the BYU Cougar’s ice hockey team on their development squad. (He’d NEVER have had that opportunity if it weren’t for his unexpected life and what he chose to do with it.) And, it looks like he’s going to meet the admission criteria for the college of his choice, BYU, the college he has dreamed of attending since wearing his first BYU apparel (at six months old. Ok. So maybe it began as his parents’ dream, but it has since become his as well!) In fact, he is closer than ever to achieving all of his childhood dreams, despite his unexpected life, or perhaps, because of it. His only regret, now, is not getting to attend all four years of high school in Utah!

“Even miracles take a little time.”

Sometimes…just one year.

“Now the weight of gold that came to Solomon in one year was six hundred threescore and six talents of gold, Beside that he had of the merchantmen, and of the traffick of the spice merchants, and of all the kings of Arabia, and of the governors of the country.” (The Bible)

Random Strangers

Date: October 10, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we’ll never know.” (Jack Handy)

Ok. I’m going to sound old here, but “back in the day” (one year ago) when I was operating in absolute shock mode, simply trying to get through each day, one at a time, as I adjusted to the unexpected life that was mine, and while I was waiting and worrying about a miracle for my son, I got a small one for myself.

Unexpectedly.

A local grocery store, Macy’s, was having a case lot sale. I went and stocked up on some food items for my little family at a bargain price. It was Saturday night, I was newly divorced and couldn’t help but think what a loser I was to have a shopping trip as my only plan, the big thrill, for the evening. As I walked into the store, I was sure every other customer knew I was single, knew my shame (why I was single), and was staring at me.

When I finished, as I walked out the door pushing my grocery cart piled high with cases of canned food, a man driving by in his car called out a comment to me, ridiculing me for my purchases. I couldn’t believe it! In all the years I had grocery shopped in Denver, no one had ever commented on my purchases or made fun of me for the amount of items in my cart. It was only after I had moved to Utah, the land of family and food storage, that I was ridiculed.

I walked to my car feeling so dumb.

I was embarrassed.

And believe it or not, my emotional state hung in such a delicate balance one year ago, that my feelings were actually hurt by that stupid comment from a thoughtless stranger.

I wanted to cry out, “I’m just a single mother trying to feed her children!”

Or, “Believe me, buddy, I already know what a loser I am–I don’t need your help and encouragement!”

But I tried not to think about it as I fought back tears, opened the trunk of my car and began to unload my cart in the parking lot. I was grateful it was dark so no one would see me, the biggest loser among all women, married or single, crying like an idiot in the dark while she unloaded her shopping cart.

I felt more alone than anyone else in the parking lot.

I wondered how I was going to get through the rest of the weekend, the next week and the rest of my life feeling as I felt. Instead of feeling rejuvenated by the weekend and able to face the coming week, I was crushed.

And then, out of the darkness, and without a word, a man was standing beside me, helping me unload my cart. He didn’t really say anything while he unloaded everything into my car, but as he handed me the last case, he paused for just an instant and smiled at me. It was dark, but I was struck by his beautiful, clear light eyes as he looked into mine and smiled. And then he got into his old, dark-colored SUV parked next to mine, that I hadn’t noticed until that moment, and drove away.

I stood there. I watched him drive away, my burden so much lighter from our encounter. I marveled at such kindness from a stranger, especially on the heels of exactly the opposite experience from another one.

He was probably just some nice man, a former Boy Scout, doing what he does for everyone, for me, that night. But to me, it was as if he was heaven sent, that moment, that night. He will never know what his small act of kindness meant to someone like me. In the parking lot of Macy’s grocery store.

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” (Tennessee Williams)

Especially while living an unexpected life.

Don’t we all?