Living Happily Ever After
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Full Circle

Date: August 12, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I don’t have to look up my family tree, because I know that I’m the sap.” (Fred Allen)

I could have died. Did I really say that out loud?

Thankfully, she laughed, opened the door and invited me into her home. And then, like a total mother, she said, “Let me look at you!” and had me turn all the way around in a circle for inspection.

She was friendly, kind, loving, accepting and interesting to talk to. She was also very open with her thoughts and feelings. I quickly learned she was not about judging others or making judgements. She had counseled me not to judge her, and the sign at her door was a good reminder: “Please leave your judgments, and your shoes, at the door.”

I think it was an exciting moment for both of us.

I apologized for my tacky first words, but maintained that they were true. She laughed and said at her age, it was a huge compliment. She didn’t mind them one bit!

There were no tears, just smiles, until she expressed her gratitude for my parents and the way they had raised me. She told me she felt that although they weren’t here any more, they were still very aware of me, that they were supportive of our meeting and that she could be here for me now. THAT is what made me cry.

It was a tender moment.

I remembered every single birthday of my entire life, when my mom would look at me funny and start to cry. (It was almost a ritual.) I’d ask her why she was crying. And she’d say, “I’m just thinking of your biological mother. I wonder what she is thinking today? And I am just so grateful to her for bringing you into this world!” And there stood the woman who had brought me into the world expressing gratitude for my parents. It was as if some part of the adoption process had come full circle.

She hugged me.

And then we sat down to begin to get acquainted.

“Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family.” (Anthony Brandt)

Another Drive

Date: August 9, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

She asked me if I was willing and available to meet in person.

I told her I was open to anything she was, so she invited me to her home that weekend. I felt bad that it was so “last minute,” I didn’t want to disrupt any plans she may have had, and offered to meet any time in the coming month or even later than that if that was better for her. She said no, that was too long. She didn’t want to wait that long.

And with counsel from her to refrain from forming any judgements about her prior to meeting in person, we set the time, and the next day I found myself driving to her home.

It was a very unique experience, that drive. My entire life I’d lived one existence, then it had radically changed in 2009, and it was about to change AGAIN in some way, to some degree. I tried to process it all as I drove. I could not picture or imagine what was in store for me.

“How weird it was to drive streets I knew so well. What a different perspective.” (Suzanne Vega)

I had 40 minutes to think. To wonder. I put music on to try to quell my thoughts but it didn’t change the fact that I was thinking about everything. A lot. Now, I just had background music!

“The real trouble with reality is that there’s no background music.” (“Witty Quotes Haven,” Clever Quotes #2)

As I drove, accompanied by background music, trying not to think yet thoughts racing, scenes from my life replayed over and over in my mind. I tried to picture the next scene. But somehow, I just couldn’t.

All I could do was keep driving.

A Case of Bad Birthday Judgement

Date: April 8, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

It’s a fact.  Nobody is perfect.

And in 2009, like every other year, I didn’t handle every situation, perfectly, all of the time.

And probably no time did I exercise poor judgement in the eyes of outsiders more than my oldest son’s 16th birthday. Unfortunately for him, His dad chose to reveal His crimes a few weeks prior to his birthday.  So instead of the milestone birthday many teens mark, my son lost his entire life as he knew it, including any chance of a birthday present.  We had NO money.  Nothing material to give him.  Not the birthday experience I’d expected to provide for my oldest child at 16 years old, for sure.

His dad had purchased an Aston Martin V-8 Vantage a few years before.  My son LOVED that car.  His dream had been to drive that car and his dad had always said when our son turned 16, he could drive it. By the time my son actually was 16, however, his dad had turned himself in to the government authorities and confessed to running a ponzi scheme for the previous 15 or more years, all of our assets had been frozen, investigators had come to our home and had scheduled the car for seizure, and a Colorado spring snowstorm was coming.

In a fit of madness possibly only mothers of teenage boys/car enthusiasts could understand (or maybe my judgement was so off no one will ever understand!) I decided my son would take the Aston Martin for a 10-15 minute drive before snow came and the car was gone. For his birthday. As his present. It was all I had to give him.

I told my spouse the plan.  He was against it but for once, for the first time in our marriage, I didn’t listen to His opinion AT ALL and I honestly didn’t care what His opinion was.  My spouse had made His choices, and because of His choices, my children and I didn’t get to make any.  My son’s birthday was upon us, his reality and dreams had been shattered, and I had nothing to give him except a memory.

My spouse resigned himself to the decision I had made, but stipulated the drive had to take place in the dark so there would be less chance of neighbors and victims finding out. (We were under surveillance 24 hours a day.  Every move we made was watched and reported to the victims and the authorities.) Wrong again.  (Poor judgement, again, on my part.)  I was planning to take a picture of the drive that my son could keep to document his 16th birthday and the only “gift” he got.

Of course I (and my poor judgement) won.  My son took the Aston Martin for a 10-15 minute spin–and as he pulled out of the driveway I forced a smile, gave him a “thumbs up” hand sign, and snapped a photo of him in the driver’s seat. He was beaming! Thrilled.  I will never forget the look of delight on his face as he drove away.

I didn’t have a gift to give him, but I got to make one of his dreams come true instead.

Later that evening, as my spouse was driving my daughter to a class, a neighbor stepped in front of the car and stopped Him. He yelled, he cussed, he said the most vile and hateful and despicable things to my spouse IN THE PRESENCE OF MY DAUGHTER. She was sitting in the passenger seat and had to endure every word.  His tirade went on and on–and then he ran and told all of the neighbors what the Merrimans were up to in their house of crime.

My daughter was physically sick from the experience.

I believe both “sides” exercised poor judgement that day.  Believe it or not, I try to see all sides to the situation, and I have tried to do that from the very beginning. (Sometimes I feel like I, and a few select former “investors”, one of whom I have already written about, are the only few embroiled in the mess of my former spouse’s creation who do.) But poor judgement or not, I would not change a single choice I made relative to letting my son drive the Astin Martin and having that memory as his birthday gift.  One year later he is still talking about it, remembering it, and rejoicing in that 10 minute drive as only a teenage boy and car enthusiast can.

The next day the neighbor called me and apologized for doing what he did in front of my daughter. He said what he did was inexcusable.  I silently agreed with him…and then I forgave him. He is a decent man.  My judgement may be imperfect but my vision is clear.  I can see all sides.