Living Happily Ever After
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Blue Train

Date: April 8, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

In my old life, world travel was a part of the perks. Once we even rode The Blue Train in South Africa. (The Blue Train is a luxury travel experience, I’ve heard it compared to The Orient Express.) The personal butler was fun, the scenery (like watching ostriches race alongside the train during parts of the journey) is unforgettable. My children loved hanging out at the bar and having friendly bar staff in jungle-themed tuxedos prepare unlimited milkshakes and specialty non-alcoholic drinks. But mostly, The Blue Train is less about the scenery and more about the experience of the train itself. And the more I ponder that travel memory, the more I realize it’s a lot like life.

The book on my nightstand reminded me of that.

“Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the window, we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at the crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minute for loitering—waiting, waiting for the station.

‘When we reach the station, that will be it!’ we cry. ‘When I’m 18.’ ‘When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes-Benz!’ ‘When I put the last kid through college.’ ‘When I get a promotion.’ ‘When I reach the age of retirement I shall live happily ever after!’

Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

‘Relish the moment’ is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: ‘This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it…’

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.”

(Robert J. Hastings, “A Penney’s Worth of Minced Ham: Another Look at the Great Depression,” [Carbondale, Ill.: Southern Illinois University Press, 1986], 90-91)

Officially A Stepmother

Date: August 13, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

Prior to my unexpected life, most of my embarrassing moments involved…underwear.

Like the day in second grade I went to the restroom, accidentally and unknowingly tucked the back of my dress into my underwear, and returned to class where Kevin Wanebo (you never forget some moments, some people, do you?) pointed my mistake out to me and the rest of the class. White panties with pink rosebuds. That’s what I was wearing that day in my most embarrassing moment.

Until 2005. I was nine months pregnant with my fourth child, talking to a very nice, younger married man from my church congregation when suddenly I noticed he was looking anywhere and everywhere but at ME while we talked. Right about the moment I noticed that, I also happened to notice a cool breeze blowing in the vicinity of my “nether regions.” I looked down and was horrified to see…my skirt puddled on the floor around my ankles—leaving me standing there, once again (you guessed it!) in my underwear.

From that moment on, and thanks to a few other memorable moments, I was pretty sure I had the market cornered on embarrassment. And then in 2009, thanks to the actions of another, I’m pretty sure I proved it.

Ironic that second marriage moment #21 also involved underwear. Or as I like to call it, the moment I officially became my stepson’s stepmother.

It was accidental (as are many pivotal moments, I’m convinced.) I was getting ready for the day and hadn’t dressed yet, my stepson walked into my room to ask me a question and caught me without my clothes on. I wasn’t sure what to do; I didn’t want to embarrass him or me further, so I tried to ignore the fact I was standing there in my underwear, finished the conversation with him and tried to act like it was no big deal.

I sent a text at the conversation’s conclusion after my stepson left. To his dad, my husband. I texted: “It’s official. I am officially your son’s stepmother.”

He texted me RIGHT back for more details. I think my husband was probably panicked our relationship was “official” because I had disciplined his son or some dreaded event like that that my husband would need to get in the middle of and help smooth things over about. But I told him it was nothing like that.

It was much bigger. Underwear. Mine. So I guess it’s official. We’re family now. Water (or unmentionables) under the bridge.

“This morning when I put on my underwear I could hear the fruit-of-the-loom guys laughing at me.” (Rodney Dangerfield)

You Glimpse Tomorrow’s Embarrassment

Date: August 12, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Every day, I have a most embarrassing moment.” (Steven Hill)

Upon entering my unexpected life, that was certainly true. Over and over again, day after day, I lived under intense scrutiny and through the utmost humiliation. (To me, in my world. There was nothing like losing my entire life, and so publicly, and for so many wrongs perpetuated.) But some days, some times, are like that. And eventually, they pass.

The good news? I survived the embarrassment. (We always do, don’t we?) Not to mention the added bonus that the whole thing certainly put humiliation into perspective for me: not much mortifies me any more, and there is a certain comfort and sense of security in that.

I was pretty sure I was “unembarrassable” after 2009.

And then I got remarried.

I think it was Jasmine who sang, “It’s a whole new world.” And it has led to a few memorable moments I might once have considered embarrassing. (Thank goodness nothing embarrasses me anymore, huh?)

“Have you ever gotten the feeling that you aren’t completely embarrassed yet, but you glimpse tomorrow’s embarrassment?” (Tom Cruise)

A Mixture of Pleasure and Pain

Date: May 23, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“This moment in time, on this tour, you know, I’m discovering a lot of new things. And to be 45 and doing that, it’s a mixture of pleasure and pain, I can assure you.” (Eric Clapton)

I’m not 45 years old, but this week marks my three-month wedding anniversary; cause to reflect on my current “tour,” remarriage, and to evaluate my experience thus far–as in where we’ve been and where we’re headed.

I remember back to the “good old days” of being engaged. I don’t know how it all came across in the blog, but the reality of it was not 9 1/2 months of bliss, carefree romance and starry eyes and nights despite the many great moments we shared. In actuality, it was the majority of  one year spent getting to know one another even better, preparing to unite not just ourselves but our families, and of challenges, confronting issues and resolving them–and when you’re talking remarriage, you’re dealing with all of the aforementioned stuff to an even greater degree than a first marriage. In fact, there was so much to work through, #5 used to joke that marriage would be easy compared to being engaged and that there was nothing we wouldn’t know about one another by the time we got married.

I think I thought #5 meant being married would be “easier” and with less to work through than our engagement and that because we knew each other so well, there wouldn’t be any surprises or a period of adjustment to one another after our wedding. (You know, for being this old and somewhat experienced in life and marriage–having been married 20 years to someone else prior to marrying #5–you’d think I’d be a lot brighter than I am!) But boy, was I wrong.

I realized, again, that you never truly know someone until you live with them and in life, and especially the remarriage aspect of the unexpected one, it seems like there is always something to work through or resolve!

I’m a hopeless romantic. (I’ll confess that right here and now in case that has happened to escape the attention of anyone reading this blog.) I went into remarriage with my usual rose-colored optimism and romantic ideals of perfection.  And while my remarriage is wonderful, there have been a few moments of challenge (if I’m being honest.) Moments spent in resolving issues. And the truth, in my experience and based on what I’ve learned from premarital counselors and others who have lived through or are living through the remarriage experience, is that approximately 80% of issues, conflict, and anything else that needs to be worked out can usually be related directly to money, children and/or former spouses. (Which shouldn’t be THAT surprising, since statistics show most first marriage difficulties arise over money and children, too.)

One day, in the middle of an “issue resolution” I joked that despite all the premarital counselor had tried to prepare me for, remarriage was a lot more difficult than I’d anticipated. That stopped #5 in his tracks. He looked at me in all seriousness and said, “Really? I thought it was going to be a LOT worse than this! I thought it was going to be much harder than this! I’m actually amazed at how well everything is going and how few problems we have compared to what I expected.”

That stopped ME in MY tracks. I was stunned. “Wait, you thought it was going to be WORSE than this…and you married me anyway?” I asked.

“Absolutely, and I’d do it again,” he clarified.

THAT sums up the remarriage experience for me, as well as the unexpected life.

It can be a stretch to feel like an old dog learning new tricks in your 40s. A mixture of pain, growing pains, as you learn and grow through the new opportunities you’re blessed with as well as plenty of pleasure, like when your new husband tells you, despite the challenges, issues and the work required to resolve them, that it’s even better than he expected, that he loves you and that he’d do it all over again. For you.

Second marriage moment #12.

“Forever can never be long enough for me, To feel like I’ve had long enough with you…Marry Me, Today and Every day, Marry Me…say you will.” (Train, “Marry Me”)

I love it when #5 hums, sings, says that or plays it for me on XM Radio “The Coffee House” channel.

The Unexpected Life.

Late Nights

Date: February 25, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m a late-night guy.” (Dane Cook)

One thing (of many) that separated #5 from the rest of the bachelor’s was his schedule. He always had me home at a decent hour, even early. In fact, (dare I confess this?) back in the dating stage where I thought he wasn’t interested in me and only asked me out to give a newly divorced single mother social experiences because he felt bad for me, he took me home pretty early one night–and I went out with some single girlfriends after that! When we got engaged, that didn’t change; he always had me home early (by my standards.) It took some getting used to, on my part. He’s not a late-night guy.

In fact, he once commented to me that the people at my house sure stay up late. I was surprised. I seriously hadn’t noticed. But ever since he pointed that out, I can’t help but notice as I occasionally drive toward my home late at night that my house, and just two others on my street, have their lights on past a certain hour. I must be a late-night gal, raising late-night children. And I guess I hadn’t noticed because by the time I get home from work, and my little family spends a decent amount of time together, it’s late at night!

So my late night experiences during the course of my 9-month engagement have been with my children. Here’s a memorable one. From last night.

It was 12:06 a.m. and my oldest and I were up chatting, he was doing homework and I was working on a gift for #5, when my son got an email to his phone. He read it, got a big grin on his face and then read it aloud to me, something like, “Congratulations! You have been accept to Brigham Young University for Fall 2011.”

IT CAME.

We were so excited, we were talking, laughing, joking and celebrating in the kitchen. His life sort of passed before my eyes as my mind was drawn back to the late nights of 1993-94, when I was up in the middle of the night with him every night. The dark nights were so still and quiet I remember feeling like he and I were the only people in the world, and I didn’t mind at all–I treasured every moment I had to enjoy him. It seemed very fitting that BYU contacted him late at night…and totally normal for he and I to be up late at night together!

In the midst of our celebration, we remembered #5 and wanted to share the good news. We knew he was asleep, so we sent him a text. We also know that since he sleeps near his phone in case his children ever need to reach him, it was probably going to wake him up. Late at night. But we did it anyway–we thought it was worth waking up for!

“If people were meant to pop out of bed, we’d all sleep in toasters.” (Author Unknown, attributed to Jim Davis)

Not only had that late night moment been years in the making, we’d had some challenges along the way: his world collapsing temporarily due to the revelations of his father, a divorce, a move to a new state and school, yet he kept his straight A’s even through the midst of all that; his mother returning to the work force full-time so he became the oldest male in our home and “at home” parent before and after school, even had to stay home with sick siblings on occasion–not the typical existence of a high schooler; in addition to school, he also works at Cold Stone; and then a few recent challenges during the application process that made it even more meaningful.

For one, my son had applied to only one college. BYU. He didn’t have a backup plan. That decision was motivated by money–we didn’t want to waste money paying to apply to any other college my son didn’t want to attend, but as time went on, I realized how unintelligent a decision that was and started to worry a little bit. (Especially after we were notified by his high school that they were sorry but they had sent an incorrect transcript and G.P.A. of just one senior to every college he had expressed interest in or that had expressed interest in him, and my son was that lucky student. I told you we have amazing odds at our house! And because the school didn’t correct their mistake for two months we began to worry a little bit about how it would all work out.)

However, last night’s late night memory made it all worthwhile. And #5 shared it with us via text. It was one of those moments we’ll never forget.

“A moment lasts all of a second, but the memory lives on forever.”

In My Dreams

Date: October 2, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“In my dreams, I could be a Princess, and that’s what I was. Like most little girls, I believed nothing less than a Prince could make my dreams come true.” (Loretta Young)

A marriage proposal is a moment. In time. In life. In dreams. And that marriage proposal moment with Bachelor #5 was no different–it was one of THOSE moments. Surreal, yet very real. When the past and the present come together. Where time seems to stands still.

The man I had fallen in love with was kneeling before me, proposing marriage, and this is what I was thinking:

“Is this REALLY happening?”

“Oh my gosh! THIS is a moment.”

“Focus, Andrea. You have to hear and remember everything he says!”

“My memory is terrible–how am I going to do that?”

“I have to remember this, I have to try to remember this moment, and this feeling, for the rest of my life.”

“Wait a second…what did he just say? That was really good, I HAVE to remember that!”

“Oh no! I can’t remember what he first said. I have to remember everything!”

My thoughts were racing. And then they turned to these:

“In one moment everything I loved, treasured, had known and held on to had been ripped out of my grasp; my entire existence devastated and destroyed. Words cannot express (although I’ve tried!) the depth of pain, grief, shock, sadness and betrayal that were mine in a single moment. Yet just 13 months later, although I’ve been absolutely convinced no one would ever want an ‘old bag’ like me again, that I was destined to remain alone for the rest of my existence, that my children would remain ‘fatherless’ and without male influence during the formative years of their childhood, my entire world is on the brink of near complete and total restoration. Words also cannot express the joy, exhilaration, depth of healing, happiness, and trust in something new–new hopes, new dreams, this new man, a new life, a new future and new possibilities–that are mine again. How can this be?”

In that moment I was overwhelmed by all that I had lost, by all that I had gone through, by all that I had learned, and also by gratitude for all that was now mine. I was so overwhelmed by all of that, tears rolled down my cheeks.

I think that’s one essential part of fairy tales that The Brothers Grimm and The Disney Corporation leave out of their stories. I bet those princesses cry when they realize that despite everything they’ve lost and have gone through–despite the dark forests they’re thrust into, the poison apples they’re handed, the cinders they sweep and the floors they scrub–they are on the brink of their happily ever. How can they be anything but overwhelmed by the emotions that surface when they see there really is a chance, after all, that all of their dreams can come true? And that maybe their lives are going to, as all fairy tales do, end with the promise of happily ever after.

Yes, I bet they cry. I know I did. Because, “Being a princess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” (Princess Diana) You’re just going to have to trust me on that one. I don’t recommend anyone find out the way I did!

So, “If you see me as just the princess then you misunderstand who I am and what I have been through. (Mariah Carey) Because all princesses are more than the sum of their miseries and the towers they’re locked in.

“I love that whole princess mentality, but I also like throwing my hair in a ponytail and just wearing jeans, going on a hike and then eating a big chili-cheeseburger.” (Jennifer Love Hewitt)

I Guess I Was The Enemy

Date: October 1, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.”
(Nelson Mandela)

Bachelor #5 arrived to pick me up, looking his usual handsome, but more dressed up than was typical for our dates.

He took me to his favorite restaurant at Sundance Resort. We had a table by the fireplace. The service was excellent; the food was delicious. Everything was perfect.

The only odd aspect of the evening was that Bachelor #5 asked our server to take a picture of us at dinner. He’d never done that before, but I figured we’d known each other six months and he’d decided it was time for us to take a picture. I’ve never been a fan of photos taken at a table and tried to get out of it but Bachelor #5 insisted. I said, “But wait. What if I don’t like the picture?” to which he replied, “Oh well, I will!” and the server snapped the picture and documented the moment. An ordinary moment, I thought.

There are no ordinary moments, by the way. I was soon going to remember that.

We finished our meal and went for a walk on the wooded paths that are Sundance. It was a beautiful evening. Mountain flowers were blooming, birds were singing, you could hear the breeze gently blowing through the pine trees; fish were swimming in a little pond. We walked around a corner to a very private spot at the bottom of the mountain, facing beautiful pine trees, and Bachelor #5 stopped. He turned to face me and said, “I’ve actually brought you here for a reason.”

“I brought you here so I could propose to you.”

I was shocked. I argued, “You have not!”

He smiled at me and patiently said, “Yes, I have. Now, don’t move and don’t say anything.”

He got down on one knee, held both of my hands in his, said the most beautiful things he could ever have said to me…and then he asked me to marry him.

A perfect proposal of marriage. Right out of a fairy tale. (Minus the pumpkin coach, of course; we had traveled there in a Honda.)

I hadn’t been expecting anything of the sort that evening. I think it was Thomas Jackson who said, “Always mystify, mislead and surprise the enemy if possible,” and that night, I guess I was the enemy. I was so surprised, I can’t even remember the exact words Bachelor #5 spoke, I just remember how overwhelmed I was by the reality of the moment, and that in it he covered every hope, fear, concern and dream I’d ever had–especially since beginning my unexpected life.

“A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes.” (Mark Twain)

Is that wedding bells I hear?

Maybe.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

It’s Time…For Skid Marks

Date: September 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“What you need to know about the past is that no matter what has happened, it has all worked together to bring you to this very moment. And this is the moment you can choose to make everything new. Right now.

The day arrived. I was ready to say the words.

I didn’t want to think about what I was about to do, afraid I’d come up with a reason or an excuse not to. So while we were sitting on a sofa in a very special place I charged ahead, not letting myself think, and asked one more question. Bachelor #5 probably wanted to roll his eyes at yet another question, but he refrained.

I asked, “If I marry you, and after we’re married when my flaws and shortcomings are abundant, and you realize you haven’t gotten exactly what you bargained for, will you stay and make the best of it, or will you want to leave?”

He said, “Of course I’ll stay. Everyone has shortcomings. It will just give us something to work on together. I’ll help you and you help me.” I thought he’d say that, but I had to make sure. (THAT was the right answer, by the way.)

I responded, “Ok then, ‘it’s time.’”

I don’t think he expected that.

And although it’s hard to catch a man who is organized and plans ahead for everything off guard, I think I succeeded! He did a double take, looked at me with wide eyes and asked, “What did you just say?”

I repeated, “It’s time.”

I think he still couldn’t believe it. He asked, “Are you serious?”

I was.

He said, “I didn’t expect you to decide so fast!” Given the many weeks I had struggled to come to a decision and make a decision, it didn’t seem that fast to me–but I could relate to the whole speed thing. I definitely wasn’t expecting something like Bachelor #5 and what he offered to happen in my unexpected life…and so fast! Interestingly, for once, the man who always has something to say, didn’t have much to say.

He simply hugged me, took me home, and drove away–actually, sped away might be a better description–without a backward glance. He may have been shocked. Or scared. Or maybe, knowing how he thinks and plans ahead, possibly already working on “taking care of the rest.”

So, “If you never want to see a man again, say, ‘I love you, I want to marry you. I want to have children…’ – they leave skid marks.”

Before I Committed Myself

Date: September 11, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.” (Jane Austen)

I made my decision, I needed to tell him, but I couldn’t. There was something else I had to know before I fully committed myself with, “It’s time.”

My problem was this: how can you think you’re in love with a man, how can you marry him, if you don’t know what it’s like to slow dance with him? One more experiment was needed. But I had to be discreet.

It didn’t even dawn on me to test his slow dancing mojo in my home or his, our own music playing. With 8 children between us, I didn’t even consider that a possibility. Instead, you’ll NEVER guess where I tested my hypothesis! A singles dance. (I know! After all I have written about them, I actually ended up going back to one, voluntarily, with Bachelor #5, just to see how I felt about slow dancing with him!)

It was going to require serious maneuvering though. Bachelor #5 was not a fan of singles dances. His ONE singles dance experience had not been pleasant. Thankfully, it occurred long before I went to one because he was not happy to be there, he sat on a chair against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and he didn’t dance once all night! (In his defense, that is SO not like him, I had to laugh at his hostility toward singles dances!)

So I didn’t tell him my plan. I didn’t tell him where we were going or why. I just buttered him up before the experiment by taking him to my favorite Provo restaurant. He was curious all through dinner about what was coming afterward, yet I never revealed a thing. I simply warned, “I’m sorry, you’re not going to like it, but it is simply something that must be done.”

That piqued his curiousity. As we walked to the car, he got a flash of inspiration and said, “I KNOW where we’re going! I know what we’re doing!”

I insisted he didn’t know anything. He insisted he did. He put me in the car, got in, turned the car on, looked over at me and asked, “Which building?”

Such is the price you pay when you have so much in common with someone else, when you’re so alike. He really did know where I was taking him. A singles dance. You can’t put much over on a soul mate.

But I didn’t back down. I gave him directions and we were off for the final experiment. We pulled into the parking lot and talked for a few minutes before going in. He had some concerns, but I assured him we simply had to dance a slow song or two and then we could leave.

Then he worried what he was supposed to do when women asked him to dance! I told him that wouldn’t happen; people would see we were together, and women would leave him alone. However, I guess he had enough experience with single women to worry about that anyway. We went inside.

It’s always that same, strange, weird feeling when you enter a singles dance, and that night was no different. Thoughts of, “What am I doing here? I don’t belong here!” flooded my mind as my senses were overwhelmed by the pulsing beat of old songs and current ones, and the sight of old people dancing like teenagers–or trying to, anyway. But Bachelor #5 and I pressed on.

After a minute or two, a slow song came on, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dance floor. A song neither of us knew was playing, but it was a very good, very appropriate song that led to a MOMENT on the dance floor. You know what I’m talking about; those MOMENTS in life that are amazing while they last, when time seems to almost stand still, and their memory lingers for years to come.

“There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.” (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

Bachelor #5 passed the test.

And guess what? We had so much fun, we stayed most of the night–dancing every slow song and even some fun fast songs that he or I liked or that brought back memories of good times from previous decades. Unexpectedly, Earth, Wind and Fire’s “September” song came on, and although I was a pretty young teen when it was popular, it was totally Bachelor #5′s genre; we both love it and we danced to it. Looking back, and given his September deadline, that probably would have been a good MOMENT to say, “It’s time,” but I didn’t even think to. I just had the thought, “Dude, if you only knew what ‘September’ is going to have in store for you. There you are, innocently dancing and having a great time, until you get the shock of your life–’It’s Time’!”

After the dance, as I walked to the car, I had a moment of nostalgia. I thought, “This is not my life anymore. These singles dances are not for me anymore. This just may be the last singles dance of my life that I attend.” And despite my previous experiences there, despite the cast of interesting characters I’ve profiled, I had a sentimental moment as I realized how much I had grown and changed, even as a single woman, since my arrival on the singles scene July 13, 2009.

My singles experience was winding down.

And I felt a profound sense of wonder that it was, coupled with a feeling of gratitude for all that I had endured, tried to rise above, and eventually learned, as a result of being unexpectedly single in my unexpected life.

“Play with life, laugh with life, dance lightly with life, and smile at the riddles of life, knowing that life’s only true lessons are writ small in the margin.” (Jonathan Lockwood Huie)