Living Happily Ever After
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The Real Truth

Date: March 12, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Never go to bed mad.  Stay up and fight.” (Phyllis Diller, Phyllis Diller’s Housekeeping Hints, 1966)

In my mid-20s, I decided to learn to play the harp. I’d already learned to play the violin, piano and guitar during my childhood so I thought the harp would be a piece of cake. I had some extra time on my hands (it was before I became a mother) so I rented a harp, found a teacher and began lessons. Sadly, I only lasted one or two months before I returned the harp and abandoned my desire. I found two things difficult about that quest: 1) that my teacher treated me like a child, marching me to a trash can to deposit my chewing gum prior to the lessons, and 2) it was REALLY hard to be so inept at something as “old” as I was and to discipline myself to start at the beginning of learning something new. (Call me lazy.)

Enter remarriage. Sometimes it reminds me of harp lessons. It can be an adjustment to learn so many new things this “old!” (Mid-40s for me; my husband is 50.) I’m struck by this thought occasionally, particularly when I learn something new about marriage or relationships. I confess I went into marriage thinking I’d been happily married for 20 years, that I knew how to “do” marriage and was pretty decent at it. I must not have anticipated learning new things with my second marriage, I was just looking forward to marrying the man I loved and building a life with him.

Instead, I’ve been shocked at how much I have learned in one short year. I admit not every lesson has been welcome or easy, particularly my biggest one: that participants in strong relationships and happy marriages don’t always see eye to eye or have the same opinion…and that’s ok; it’s ok to agree to disagree on an issue; a difference of opinion doesn’t always mean it’s a fight; conflict (and the resolution of conflict) is acceptable, and even normal, in marriage; and several other realizations along those same lines. I can’t believe I was married for 20 years and never got that.

I saw my friends, family members and other people in healthy relationships and good marriages experience and resolve conflict over and over again. But for some reason, it never gave me pause to wonder why I wasn’t dealing with the same things. The man I was married to would occasionally remark, “Isn’t it great that we don’t have those problems like other couples?” and act like our marriage was better, our relationship was stronger, or that we were more compatible than other couples because of that.

But on this side of it, I see he was WRONG about that and many other things, including his choices to lie, steal, commit fraud and perpetrate a Ponzi scheme for 16 years. I see that his crimes and his lies affected not just his professional life and the lives of his investors, but like an octopus, its nasty and dangerous tentacles infiltrated and wrapped themselves around every aspect of his life, mine and our family, including my marriage as well. That was eye opening. And not very pleasant to discover.

And I never realized it until I remarried, an honest man this time.

During our first year of marriage, we worked through a few differences of opinion. If you asked my husband about them, that’s all that he’d say they were. But each time one arose, I panicked. A part of me felt it had to mean something bad to even experience a difference of opinion. I was so afraid to face conflict, I’d keep quiet and let it fester inside me until I couldn’t take it any more–or until my husband would ask me what was wrong–and then it would finally unleash. And always, not only did I fear conflict thinking it would be the beginning of the end of my new marriage and our relationship, it was always accompanied by that darn throwing up reaction I’ve experienced since beginning my unexpected life.

It shocked me to realize my first marriage didn’t have a lot of differences of opinion I’m sure, not because our marriage was better than any other marriage and not because we were more compatible than other couples, but because one of us wasn’t being honest. After all, how can you have any conflict when one partner is probably just saying what they think the other one wants to hear to keep peace in the marriage and the home? (He had to have done that, I don’t believe you can run a Ponzi scheme AND deal with conflict outside of that, a Ponzi scheme has to be way too much work on its own. Sadly, I now suspect many aspects of my then-marriage were perhaps not as “real” as normal marriages; were not as “perfect” as I thought.)

But I never saw that. I never knew it. I guess the Ponzi scheme wasn’t the only thing I missed during my first marriage.

It has been somewhat difficult to master second marriage moment #31. But I’d say it’s about time I learned it, wouldn’t you? My thanks to my honest, patient and loving husband who has helped me come to the realizations I have finally come to, about differences of opinion in marriage; and who helps me dare to trust a man and a husband time and again, in every way possible.

So here’s the real truth about marriage that everyone but me has probably always known and lived, my knowledge acquired courtesy of my remarriage: conflict IS ok. My husband tells me differences of opinion are healthy and I now believe him. It’s normal for two people, who have lived two different lives and come from two different worlds, to have a few different ideas about things. The issues aren’t that important, it’s the hanging in there and working through them together that is. After all, ”A happy marriage is the union of two good forgivers.” (Ruth Bell Graham)

While Mother’s Away…

Date: February 5, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

A woman realizes her son has not yet gotten out of bed for school. She goes into his bedroom and tells him to get up or he will miss breakfast. ”No,” the son replies. “I don’t wanna go to school!” ”You HAVE to go to school,” the mother scolds.

“No! The kids are mean to me, the teachers don’t like me, and the lunches are icky.” ”You WILL go to school, young man,” the mother warns. ”Why? Why do I have to go to school today?” the son asks. The mother is about to lose her patience: “Because you’re the principal, now get out of bed!”

Yes, that’s sort of what happened during my cruise. Only I wasn’t home with my son—and it was my kindergarten-age son that ditched school! I NEVER expected that one! Yes, while I was on my husband’s birthday cruise experiencing karaoke and all kinds of adventures, my children were at home in Utah, one having adventures of his own!

My high school-age daughter is sharp, efficient, independent and always has been. (She could run our home and family smoothly by the time she was in 5th grade without my help, but I’m thankful she lets me hang around to attempt to do my part!)  While we were gone, she had everything under control—drove her siblings to daycare and school, went to school herself, picked up her siblings after school, supervised them, fed them, helped with homework, cleaned the house, did the laundry, and took care of everything related to the running of the family in my absence. My children were in good hands. And then I got an unexpected email. (We couldn’t get phone service on our cruise.) The email reported certain delinquent behavior…of my kindergartener!

Apparently, he’d been dropped off at school by his daycare (like he is every day) and headed through the doors of the school. Before my son went into his classroom, however, he decided he didn’t “feel” like going to school that day so he and a friend who also didn’t feel like going to school that day, headed off on an adventure. While I’ve never had a child do something like that and never expected to have one do something like that, thank goodness I live in Utah and thank goodness I have good neighbors! Mid-afternoon my neighbor was driving in the town next to ours…and saw my son walking on the side of the road! She picked him up, took him home and kept him until my daughter got home from school.

By the time I was able to reach my children by phone, my daughter had handled it: she had marched her brother to the school office to tell the principal what he had done and apologize for his poor choice; she had taken him home, grounded him from playing with friends and had taken away some other privileges as a consequence of his wrong decision; she had talked to him about his behavior AND called her older college-age brother to come home for a visit that evening to talk to the offender, again, about family expectations regarding school attendance. By the time I finally got to speak with my youngest son, he was very penitent; but I reiterated my impression of his incorrect choice and behavior again anyway, just to make sure there would NEVER be a repeat occurrence!

Kindergarten delinquent. (For a day.) WHO raises a child like that? Apparently, me. And given what we’ve lived through, holding myself back from over-reacting is a struggle. It’s a challenge for me, sometimes, to remain calm about it all. I have to make the effort to refrain from panicking. Sometimes I have to mentally calm myself down before reacting to what I once deemed “typical” childhood learning experiences (telling a lie, stealing a coin or a piece of candy or other similar behaviors.) I’m desperate for my children to avoid the mistakes made by their other parent. I’ll never give up my quest to teach my children to make correct choices, to be obedient, to follow the rules and to grow up to be honest, good, law abiding citizens that are a force for good in the world—especially given the example set by someone else once close to them.

“Hey, Cameron. You realize if we played by the rules right now we’d be in gym?” (Ferris Bueller, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”)

I’m a huge fan of playing by the rules and obeying the law.
Despite, or because of, the unexpected life.

That’s How We Learn

Date: November 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I grew up with six brothers. That’s how I learned to dance – waiting for the bathroom.” (Bob Hope)

I can relate, although I learned to dance in the kitchen watching my parents cha-cha before breakfast and taking a spin when my mom needed to stir something.

But that is the grand adventure of life, isn’t it?

Learning the most unexpected lessons at the most unexpected times and from the most unexpected places.

I learned honesty as a child, but learned, again, how committed I was to it when government agents were coming to my home to seize everything of value and I knew the contents of my jewelry box. It would have been so easy to take something I could sell to feed, clothe or shelter my children and none would be the wiser. Except me. And that was the problem.

So I didn’t do it, although I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. It absolutely did. When you’re left alone, financially devastated, and have four children to provide for, it’s amazing how desperate that situation can make you feel. However, I’ve never been one to sell my soul for “things” and even when the stakes were so high in my eyes, I learned I still wasn’t going to. I learned for myself I wasn’t going to break down and be dishonest after living a life of complete honesty just because my spouse had. I learned I’d rather starve or be forced to rely upon the charity of others than to choose to steal or sell my soul for any “thing.”

In that moment I also learned that as much as we know what is right, and regardless of how much a virtue (like honesty) we possess, we are never absolutely above temptation. At least, I’m imperfect enough not to be.

Life is an endless opportunity to prove ourselves and reprove ourselves and prove ourselves again, even when we think we have something mastered–we get to learn and prove ourselves in an entirely new, and unexpected, way!

Like dance. I graduated from high school and dancing in the kitchen to college, social dance class, and returning home for New Year’s Eve 1985 to cha-cha with my dad, one last time, but in public, at a dance. Later I added clogging, BYU Folk Dancers and Irish dance to the resume of my experience. And eventually, a dance class with Bachelor #5. He keeps inviting me to country/western dance, so that may be next on our list. But wherever our lesson, and our life lessons take us, this I know:

That’s how we learn. And we’re learning all the time. The tombstone will be our diploma, said Eartha Kitt.

“Be a student so long as you still have something to learn, and this will mean all your life.” (Henry L. Doherty)

Especially in the unexpected one.

The BIG “Board Breaker” (And A Bright Spot)

Date: August 20, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

There was a time in my life when the following board breaker would have been, possibly, the ultimate humiliation.

But it’s funny how your perspective changes when you discover the man you have loved, trusted and been married to for 20 years has been running a Ponzi scheme, stealing millions of dollars, is heading to prison, and shatters your world very publicly ending in a divorce publicized in local and national media. (Just what every young girl dreams of. Not!)

Given the fact I’ve lived through what I believe is one of the more tragic yet embarrassing experiences, at least in my world, I’m not sure I have it in me to be mortified any more. Thankfully I’m unable to be embarrassed, because I’m still single and the following board breaker illustrates what single women are up against.

Single men.

Sometimes rejection.

Possible humiliation. (If you haven’t already lived through an ultimate humiliation, that is.)

One night, I went to a single’s dance alone. I danced, met some new friends, and then headed out for a break. When I returned, a song from the 80s that I loved was playing. So I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I decided to ask someone to dance. I looked around, found a man near me, asked, “Would you like to dance?”

And he said, “No.”

I was shocked! I never expected THAT. My parents taught me to never say no, regardless of who the boy was or what I thought of him. And there I was, rejected! Just like that. I know I’m not the biggest catch, but clearly, that man was not raised by parents. Lol.

I’m sure the shock showed in my face because he tried to explain that he’d had his eye on someone all night and wanted to catch her as she came off the dance floor. But it didn’t really help me. I couldn’t prevent the following thoughts: “What bad manners! How rude! What a loser!” And finally, “Well, you can’t expect to appeal to every one… especially VERY ordinary single men!”

I decided those dances didn’t work for me. And then, like Mr. Board Breaker who wouldn’t give up although his audience is cringing at his failure, he’s swaying on his feet from beating himself over the head with a board time and time again to no avail, I tried another dance the following month! (I know–slow learner.)

I danced, met some new friends, took a break, and then an 80s song I loved came on as I returned to the room. I didn’t want to miss the song, so I decided to ask a man to dance. What are the odds of a man saying no when you ask him to dance? I’d already experienced my “once in a lifetime” rejection at the last dance, so what did I have to lose by asking a man to dance a second time?

Apparently, what little dignity I had left because I asked a much less ordinary man to dance and HE said no!

He had an excuse, too. He said he had injured his leg and couldn’t dance. (Then WHY had he gone to a dance?) But at least he was nice, friendly, talkative and shared some singles information with me for the next few songs we didn’t dance. He told me to friend him on Facebook and he’d introduce me to lots of single people and singles activities. I tried to believe his excuse was real, and I didn’t see him dance once the entire night, so maybe it was the truth. But it was still a rejection!

At a subsequent dance I saw the same man (Reject #2, lets call him), this time dancing, and thought, “Hmm! His leg must be better.” I didn’t give him the evil eye or anything, I didn’t even stare at him, but before I knew it, the song had ended and he made his way over to me and asked me to dance–three songs in a row. So maybe he rejected me for a legitimate reason? Or maybe he was just trying to make up for his initial bad manners! Lol.

Too bad I’m not a gambler. Sometimes I have incredible luck. I mean, what are the odds of asking a man to dance and getting rejected? And getting rejected two dances in a row? For that matter, what are the odds of marrying a man who does what my former spouse did?

Lucky me.

However, a bright spot in the single life, a bit of glue that helps me hold it all together and keeps me going in the social “game” of dating and the unexpected life that is now mine, are singles lunches. (And I owe them to the second man who rejected me. He told me he’d introduce me to some great single people and singles activities and he did.)

Singles lunches are the best thing I’ve done as a single woman. They’re the most fun I’ve had, too. It’s just a group of singles under 45 years old who get together once a week for lunch. A different restaurant every week. You pay for yourself. And right up front the group informs you: don’t come to fall in love; just come, eat lunch and make friends.

The lunches are no pressure. They don’t cut into my evenings or my time with my children. I’ve only met friends there. Kind friends who text or call me to check on me occasionally or to let me know of a great activity I shouldn’t miss. Those lunches are my oasis in the desert of my single life! (A little dramatic, I’m just trying to emphasize how great I think they are. Thanks, Adam, for inventing them and coordinating them. I have loved participating in them!)

A bright spot amid my share of board breakers!

And yet, the dating continues despite the board breakers.

I just can’t give up searching for that happy ending.