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)
“It’s not the load that breaks you down, it’s the way you carry it.” (Lou Holtz)
There you have it, Andrea Merriman’s SIX STEPS TO SURVIVING ANYTHING.
And when all else fails, I guess, you can look to the inspiring examples of others, follow in their footsteps and carry on anyway when life and its challenges seem overwhelming. That’s what I do.
Let me introduce you to some of my heroes. Sadly, I don’t even know her name, but her life and what she chose to do with it, inspires me to carry on no matter what.
She and her husband had lived an idyllic life in East Prussia prior to WWII. Then came the war. Her husband was killed and she was left alone to care for their four children when occupying forces determined Germans in East Prussia had to go to Western Germany. She was forced to make a journey of over 1,000 miles on foot—with four little children—allowed to take only what they could load into their small, wooden-wheeled wagon.
They left in late summer with no food or money, forced to gather whatever they could find to sustain them from fields and forests along the way. They faced constant dangers from panic-stricken refugees and plundering troops. Days turned into weeks and months, the temperatures dropped below freezing, and they continued to stumble over the frozen ground, her smallest child, a baby, in her arms and her three other children struggling behind her; the oldest, seven years old, pulling their tiny wagon.
Their shoes had disintegrated so they wore ragged and torn burlap to cover their feet. Their only clothing and protection against the cold were their thin, tattered jackets. The snows came and the days and nights became a nightmare. She constantly forced from her mind overwhelming fear that they would perish before reaching their destination. And then one morning, it happened: she awakened to find her three-year-old daughter cold and still.
Overwhelmed with grief, she used the only implement she had, A SPOON, to dig a grave in the frozen ground for her precious child. And they traveled on. They had to.
Death was her companion again, over and over on the journey. Her seven-year-old son died. Again, her only shovel was a spoon, and again she dug hour after hour to lay his mortal remains gently into the earth. Then her five-year-old son died, and again, she used her spoon as a shovel.
She had only her baby daughter left, and as she reached the end of her journey the baby died in her arms. The spoon was gone now, so hour after hour she dug a grave in the frozen earth with her bare fingers. She had lost her husband and all her children; she had given up her earthly goods, her home and even her homeland; and in the moment of overwhelming sorrow, she felt her heart would break.
And then, something within her said, “Get down on your knees and pray.” She knelt and prayed more fervently than she had in her entire life: “Dear Heavenly Father, I do not know how I can go on. I have nothing left.”
Then she recognized that her faith was the one thing she had left, and that it was a blessing to her, which led to expressions of gratitude and resulted in a new determination to live.
Recognizing our blessings and counting them, even if we can only come up with one blessing we have (that we’re still breathing, or that we have faith) can give us the will and determination to press forward and to carry on, no matter our adversities.
“That corpse you planted last year in your garden, Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?” (T.S. Eliot)
No. Not in my garden. Here’s why.
Three years ago, when I lost my life (and pretty much everything else) in the aftermath of a Ponzi scheme, I moved to Utah. Along with my four children, I brought three peony plants from my Colorado yard I had uprooted and hauled several hundred miles in orange Home Depot buckets to transplant in our new yard. I’ve written about them before: one didn’t survive the journey, one made the journey and survived the first winter only to be uprooted by my youngest in his “chop down the new fruit trees and many other thriving plants with a plastic sword” phase, and the third, and final peony, bit the dust last week.
Not totally of its own volition, I confess. I just realized we’re entering the fourth growing season in our new life and while that peony has turned green every year, it has never bloomed. So last week I finally let my husband dig it up and remove it. We’re going to try something else in its place. Why?
Because life is too short to waste time NOT blooming.
I believe life isn’t meant to simply be “endured.” I believe, instead, that life is a garden and we’ve all been given a patch of ground to do with it, to make of our life, what we will. Admittedly, all ground is NOT created equal. Some of us have a pretty easy, carefree row to till. Some have sandy soil; some are blessed with a rainforest (which has its own challenges); some have been planted in very difficult, rocky soil. And a few of us may not even be in any soil at all–but instead, like I found myself a few years ago, thrust into a pile of the absolute worst manure I’d never imagined! But regardless of the garden, or life, you’ve been transplanted to, you’ve got to bloom. Blossom. Achieve your dreams. Burst forth into something great. Let the soil of your experiences help you grow into something better than you’d have otherwise been. No matter what happens to you.
“I advise you to say your dream is possible and then overcome all inconveniences, ignore all the hassles and take a running leap through the hoop, even if it is in flames.” (Les Brown)
“Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before. Let your soul take you where you long to be…Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar, and you’ll live as you’ve never lived before.” (Eric Fromme)
Before I go any further I have to reiterate, again, that remarriage is a journey through a strange new world.
It’s unsettling, after living four or more decades of your life and doing things a certain way for specific reasons…to change it all up and do everything differently. But it’s also exciting, not to mention occasionally entertaining. You certainly have new experiences you never expected to have; you learn new things; and I like to think (or hope) that all of it will help keep me young!
Now back to the birthday cruise for my husband.
We both had prior cruising experience prior to our first one together. My husband had been on several cruises and I’d been on 10 myself (I had been married for 20 years to a man who did everything to excess; now that I know what was REALLY going on all those years, I see that he certainly lived up to Ponzi scheme criminal stereotype/reputation for “living the high life.” Bummer that I, like everyone else, simply thought he was just very successful and good at his job!)
We brought to our 2011 marriage our own (different) travel habits and expectations. But since this cruise was with in celebration of my husband’s 50th birthday and we were traveling with his family and friends, I told him not to worry about me; we were doing it his way—and while I don’t think we did the whole trip “his way,” (my husband is too considerate for that) I pretty much went along with everything my husband suggested (like karaoke) and had a lot of new adventures (like karaoke) that were part of his previous experience but had never been a part of mine.
It was a very different cruise than any I’d ever been on before, but it was also a LOT of fun!
“Old and young, we are all on our last cruise.” (Robert Louis Stevenson)
Make the most of it.
“Hawaii is a unique state. It is a small state. It is a state that is by itself. It…is different from the other 49 states. Well, all states are different, but it’s got a particularly unique situation.” (Dan Quayle)
Still no ring, but we had survived our first “intense discussion.” And while the wait for the ring continued, Bachelor #5 helped take my mind off the wait. One day I got a very unexpected email, and invitation, from Bachelor #5: “Hey, I just had a crazy idea. What if you and I fly to Hawaii for a long weekend? Let me know what you think.”
Since 1993, in 17 years, I had left my children a total of 17 nights. The pre-unexpected life me would have declined that invitation without a second thought. But I was living an entirely different life, now, and the “new” me decided to at least entertain the idea. I just needed to see how my children felt about it. They were supportive, so I arranged for childcare, and one morning a few weeks later found myself on my way to Hawaii.
I never expected that.
We stayed with Bachelor #5′s best friends, a husband and wife he had known since college. (In fact, he introduced them to each other.) It was wonderful to meet them. As Bachelor #5 and I both had ties to Hawaii, it was also a great opportunity for us to see our old favorite places but make new memories with each other. The trip reinforced to me how many “near misses” we’d had; how close we’d been to meeting each other, but never actually met until my unexpected life began.
For example, while attending BYU-Hawaii, Bachelor #5 participated in a performing group. Imagine my surprise when we realized I’d gotten a piano scholarship from the group’s professor and director but I’d turned it down and attended college, instead, at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.
Another example: My parents co-owned a home on Oahu’s Hukilau Beach when I was a girl. I spent time there boogie boarding every summer. I’d taken my children to that same beach for several years to share part of my childhood with them. And then I found myself sharing that same experience with Bachelor #5. While we were in the water looking toward the houses on shore, Bachelor #5 pointed out the house he’d lived in during his time in Hawaii–four houses down the beach from my parents’ house! I remembered college men had lived there (I’d seen them on the beach occasionally, I just never paid much attention to them because they were “older” than me.) I never realized that Bachelor #5 may have been one of them!
It reminded me of a movie I saw years ago starring Gwyneth Paltrow. Actually two movies in one, it showed one plot and story that took place as she made it onto a subway car before the door closed and a parallel version and story with different events, experiences and developments that took place when she missed the subway and the door closed before she could board. Interestingly, by the end of the movie, both stories took her to the same destination and life situation; both versions had the same ending, just chronicled different events that got her to the same point at the end.
While in Hawaii, I couldn’t help but compare that bit of Hollywood fiction to my reality.
“And if real life was like the movies, I should have lived happily ever after.” (Piper Laurie)
It was healing to realize, again, that sometimes we really do have to pass through indescribably difficult things to get to where we need to be; that all things truly can work together for our good IF we allow them to. And if we don’t quit too soon or give up (even when we’re overwhelmed with the path our journey has taken) we can trust that we’ll end up right where we have needed to be all along. Possibly even at the same “ending.” Our own “happily ever after.”
“Nothing is so awesomely unfamiliar as the familiar that discloses itself at the end of a journey.” (Cynthia Ozick)
Five days until I moved from Colorado to Utah.
I felt like I imagined Christopher Columbus had to have felt: sailing off the edge of the map, sailing off into totally unknown territory, sailing off from the only life ever known. Columbus, himself, said, “Following the light of the sun, we left the Old World.”
It sure seemed dark in my existence. But I had the light of correct principles I knew to be true to guide me. I knew I was leaving the “old world” I’d lived in for the previous 20 years, and I was going to who knew what? I was scared to death! I wondered if Columbus had ever been afraid. I sure was! I tried not to be. But I wasn’t very successful at fighting my fear.
I just kept going, fearful, but pressing forward and hoping Columbus was right when he said, “By prevailing over all obstacles and distractions, one may unfailingly arrive at his chosen goal or destination.” I hoped that somehow, some way, I would also prevail at what lay before me: an unexpected life.
I looked to other brave explorers for inspiration. Jacques Cousteau said, “Every morning I wake up saying, I’m still alive, a miracle. And so I keep on pushing.” I kept waking up and facing each new day. I kept on pushing too.
I took great hope from another wise bit of wisdom from Cousteau: “If we were logical, the future would be bleak indeed. But we are more than logical. We are human beings, and we have faith, and we have hope, and we can work.” Thankfully, I had been taught to have faith, hope, and to work.
I was facing a journey more daunting than anything I’d ever imagined. It certainly wasn’t a voyage I’d dreamed of, planned for, or wanted to be participating in. But it was mine. My unexpected life.
Looking back, as difficult as it was to live it, it was also something more. It was an opportunity not many people are presented with. I could make of it what I might for myself and for my children. And if I handled it wisely, I could learn and grow to become a better person, and most importantly, I could teach my children how to be successful (how to live and find joy) in any set of circumstances– that’s one of the most important things we have to learn in life, in my opinion. And by helping my children overcome the huge mountain that was now their life, I could do something extraordinary with my unexpected life.
“People do not decide to become extraordinary. They decide to accomplish extraordinary things.” (Sir Edmund Hillary)
THAT is life.
