Living Happily Ever After

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Of Life, Cereal And…Purple Milk

“The team has come along slow but fast.” (Casey Stengel)

In 2009, circumstances dictated I form a new team: me and my four children, a new family unit headed by a single mother. We  nicknamed ourselves “The Five Musketeers.” Between us, we had enough for a basketball team–no substitutes.

Two years later, a lot has happened on and off the court of our unexpected life. We have new teammates, as well as many other unexpected blessings and adventures.

The other morning, my middle son was pouring himself some “Life” breakfast cereal. (Right now, it’s one of our favorites. We go through boxes of the stuff. As chief grocery shopper for our household, I find my mission impossible, too often, is trying to find cereal the kids love and want to eat at a price I can afford!) As my son poured the last of the box into his bowl he commented, “Life sure goes fast!”

My husband and I looked at each other and laughed. At the wisdom of eleven-year-olds. Although I’m pretty sure my son wasn’t trying to wax philosophical, he ended up doing it anyway. Because as my oldest prepares to “move out” and into his college dorm, at the same time, my youngest is entering kindergarten; both momentous occasions taking place in just three weeks. But I’m not laughing so hard anymore. Because I’m thinking breakfast cereal isn’t the only thing that doesn’t last.

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look round once in a while, you could miss it.” (“Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”)

Yes, LIFE sure goes fast! Which makes me even more grateful for some wonderful advice my Nana gave me when she was in her 90s and I was a busy mother of a toddler and a baby. We were visiting in her home, she watched me jump up and down to help my children with various things as we chatted, and she sighed and said, “Treasure these moments. Treasure this time with your children. Of all the days you’ll live, these are your best days–the days you’re surrounded by those you love, the days you get to live with your children in your home. Out of all that I’ve lived and experienced, it’s those days that I treasure the most.”

My Nana grew up lighting candles to see, carrying hot bricks to place at the foot of her bed to keep her feet warm in the winter. As a girl, she traveled by horse and buggy, and later worked as a telephone operator (the kind you talked to to request a connection to a certain person), and saw the advent of automobiles, airplanes, dishwashers, washing machines, microwaves, television, computers and a man on the moon. She experienced some amazing things over the course of her life, yet out of all of it, she most treasured her time with her children when they were young.

How grateful I am that my Nana shared that counsel with me and that I chose to listen to it. Because life sure goes fast, cereal or otherwise!

“I won’t eat any cereal that doesn’t turn the milk purple.” (Bill Watterson) Not such a bad idea!

Are You SURE?

“Madam your wife and I didn’t hit it off the only time I ever saw her. I won’t say she was silly, but I think one of us was silly, and it wasn’t me.” (Elizabeth Gaskell)

When you have children, meeting the other parent of your fiance’s children is part of the engagement leading to remarriage experience. It sort of snuck up on me. So although I don’t know what I was expecting that meeting to be like, it wasn’t what I expected at all.

We were at an event for #5′s oldest son. I didn’t know anyone, but #5 had been very good to introduce me to everyone. At some point he asked me how I was, if I was having fun and if I’d met everyone yet. I said, “I think so. But there’s an older woman here who looks a LOT like your oldest daughter that I haven’t met yet. Is she your ex-wife?”

He gazed in the direction I was looking and said, “Yes, that’s her. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

We walked over to where she stood, #5 introduced us and then he got out of there! My conversation with his ex-wife was brief. She told me #5 is a really good person. She thanked me for being kind to her children. And then she said something about wanting me to know she would never do anything to cause a problem or come between us.

I appreciated her positive comments, but it was all a little surreal for me. I’d never expected to be divorced, much less getting remarried and having a conversation with someone’s ex-wife! And to have to discuss the drama ex-spouses can be (when I’m not a drama queen AT ALL) almost mortified me. I didn’t quite know what to say, so I agreed with her that #5 is a really good person; I told her how much I loved her children; and then said something like, “Oh, I’m sure you would never do anything–especially when there’s no reason to as I know I came around long AFTER your divorce–we don’t even need to talk about it, but thanks for saying that.”

Here is what I remember thinking:

“Am I REALLY having this conversation?” (The drama potential is SO NOT me.)

“She’s older than I imagined.” (I later found out she is older than #5; I don’t know why I didn’t expect that.)

“Wow. She is SHORT!” (I think the top of her head hit somewhere between my elbow and my shoulder. I don’t know why I didn’t expect that, either.)

“I really like her.”

Afterward, when we were driving home, #5 asked me for my thoughts about the day. I told him my feelings and then said, “But you’ll be amazed who, of everyone, I really liked.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Your ex-wife,” I replied.

And since I’ve always been a big believer in marriage and families, especially intact ones, I couldn’t help but add, “Are you SURE you shouldn’t see if you can put your original family back together? Your ex-wife seems nice. Your children could have their parents together again. Your ex-wife wouldn’t have to struggle… We could take a break while you see what you could work out. I would completely support you in that.”

I thought it was a very kind, generous offer on my part–I knew what I felt about #5 and what I would be giving up for him to do that, but I felt I had to suggest it, to do my part to see if there couldn’t be one less broken family in the world. Instead, #5 looked at me like I was completely looney. And in the interest of being concise and discreet,  I’ll sum his response with two words: “No, thanks.”

“Well, whaddya expect in an opera, a happy ending?” (Bugs Bunny, “What’s Opera, Doc?” 1957)

I sure do. Which is why on one other occasion during our engagement, I made the same offer to #5 again and asked, “Are you SURE you shouldn’t see if you can put your original family back together?”

To which he replied, “Andrea, you can decide you don’t love me. You can decide you won’t marry me. But no matter what, and even if it means I’m alone the rest of my life, the option you’re suggesting is not something that will ever happen.” And then, with a smile, he told me if I suggested such a thing again he might get really, really mad.

I may be slow, but I got it.

I decided I had done all I could do on that front, so I’d just enjoy the opportunity that was mine and continue to work toward my own happy ending.

“I’ve always felt that life is a novel, and part of it is written for you, and part of it is written by you. It’s up to you to write the ending, ultimately.” (Lynn Johnston)