Living Happily Ever After
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The First Adventure

Date: May 16, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“For there is a price ticket on everything that puts a whizz into life, and adventure follows the rule. It’s distressing, but there you are.” (Leslie Charteris)

One adventure of my most recent business trip, was the opportunity to address a crowd of several thousand people. As I manage the philanthropic efforts of my company, my topic was service to others and making the world a better place. Here’s an edited excerpt:

“On the plains of Texas and Oklahoma, trees were sometimes rare and precious things and there was a tradition that recognized the responsibility of one generation for the next. Homesteaders, once their house was built, the well dug and the first crops harvested, planted their ‘grandchildren grove.’ Farmers read scores of seed catalogs to select a particular type of pecan tree—hardy and strong, able to withstand deep winters and torrid summers—and sent off carefully hoarded money.

In due time, a tree hardly larger than a switch arrived. The farmers placed the roots in water, dug a hole, planted the trees, and watered them carrying bucketful after bucketful from their wells. The pecan trees weren’t for their benefit. Pecan trees grow very slowly, the farmers would be dead and gone long before the groves they planted provided substantial shade or nuts. Some felt work that went unrewarded for generations was a waste, but farmers who planted pecan trees weren’t planting the trees for themselves. They were creating a legacy for others.

In the 1870s, my great-great grandfather left his native country of Denmark for Utah and established a homestead. He built a dwelling on the property, worked the land for a number of years and eventually it became his. He built this house—lived in a tiny upstairs accessed by a ladder on the outside of the structure while his sheep lived in the room below him! His effort sustained his life and became a legacy.  Who can predict the value of one person’s life well-lived, the service they provide or the impact of a legacy? In my experience, you can’t, because it’s limitless.

I was reminded of that fact 140 years after he established his legacy, because his legacy literally saved me when I unexpectedly became single—without a home, money or assets—the sole parent and support of my four children. What began as a little homestead and then became his legacy, sustained me and my children for a time and helped us get our start in building and creating a new life.

What is your legacy? How are you demonstrating your commitment to making a difference in the world, making the world a better place? Your legacy is the service you provide, the mark you make on the world while you’re here and the one you will leave behind when you are gone. Although our days are numbered, may our good works never be!”

After the speech ended, I went about my other business duties at my company’s event. But as usually happens after a speech, I met people who recognized me as the woman who spoke on stage, they’d introduce themselves and we’d have a great discussion about the impact of service, making the world better or they’d share how someone had touched their life by serving them. What I didn’t expect was any discussion about anything else. But as I’ve said before, in life, you get unexpected adventures.

A man approached, introduced himself, told me how much he’d enjoyed my remarks and what an amazing woman I was. He was quite effusive in his praise, it made me start to think, “Wow, my speech must have been even better than I thought!” And then the man moved on to the topic of being a single parent, surviving hard things, told me we had a lot in common, what a strong woman I must be, how much he admired me and how nice it was to meet me. (I know, I know, I’ve always been slow to catch on to these types of things, haven’t I? And apparently two times through the singles scene, in the 1980s and again in 2009-2010, didn’t make my instincts any sharper!)

It suddenly dawned on me that the man was single and apparently thought I still was! He continued to talk (and compliment me) and I began to notice he was still holding my hand from our initial handshake. And then his talk turned to the idea of destiny, including that it was more than a coincidence that we were involved at the same company, at the same event, and that it was fate that we meet.

I withdrew my hand as politely as I could, thanked him for his kind words, told him it had been a pleasure to meet him and added, “And what a blessing it is to get through those hard times! It’s so nice to be out of mine, to have life move on and to have it all come together again in great happiness.” (Or something like that. I was kind of flustered about the man’s mistaken impression and was almost panicked that I’d apparently given an auditorium of people the wrong impression about my marital status—despite the fact I’m very open about my marital status and I stood there wearing my wedding ring during my speech AND while meeting the single man!)

I went back to my work duties, laughed at that “unexpected” adventure and quickly forgot it. Until the next time the man sought me out. And the next time. And when his next conversation began with, “Can you believe we keep running into each other like this? It must be more than destiny!” (all the while, he’s clutching my hand in his) I began to think it was more than destiny too. I thought it was like many other travel experiences I’ve had—trips to Disneyland, cruises, whatever—where I’ve noticed the same person/family or run into the same person/family over and over again for a STRANGE reason (usually because they stand out because they’re “odd”!) I emphasized, again, that I was married and didn’t run into my new friend again after that. Adventure over.

Until I got home, returned to work, checked my email and had a new Facebook friend request! From you-know-who!

“Boldness be my friend.” (William Shakespeare)

Don’t Leave Home Without Them

Date: May 10, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“She never quite leaves her children at home, even when she doesn’t take them along.” (Margaret Culken Banning)

When I got my job, I was a single mother. With an ex-husband in prison and my parents dead, it meant that when I wasn’t with my children, they were basically “orphans.” Thankfully, my company could not have been more understanding of that. I told them up front I couldn’t travel due to my situation and they hired me anyway, allowed me significant flexibility in my work schedule (they still do) and although many employees traveled on the company’s behalf every quarter, they never once asked me to, made me feel guilty because I didn’t travel or forced me to travel. (I work for an amazing company, by the way.)

After my marriage, they asked if I could travel to a quarterly event. My husband stayed home with the kids, I made the trip but as all mothers know, especially those who work full-time, you frequently have your children in mind. Nothing reminded me of that more than a recent business trip I made to Anaheim, Calif. for my company’s annual Global Convention.

I was gone five days. As I departed my husband commented, “Who would have imagined that, of the two of us, YOU would have the longest business trips!” True. I certainly never imagined I’d ever have a business trip much less longer ones than those of my husband.

And, wouldn’t you know, my business trip overlapped with a significant event—you guessed it—my daughter’s prom! (Talk about Proma Drama continued! If my daughter were writing this, I’m sure she’d clarify that she is also my “only” daughter. Yes, I’m a loser working mother! Out of town the weekend of my daughter’s Junior Prom!) I had no choice. But it didn’t stop my daughter from noting, “Do you realize you’ve been out of town for every single school dance I’ve had?” (Can you sense the working mother guilt oozing from me? Trust me, it is!)

But I did what I could. Despite everything I had going on at my event (including working from early morning to late at night each day with hardly time to eat) I did everything I could in advance of the big event: I helped her find the perfect dress, I paid for it, I arranged for jewelry to match her dress, I asked my sister-in-law to do my daughter’s hair (turns out, it was quite a party with my daughter and her cousin going to prom the same night resulting in an assembly line of hair and make-up artistry performed by nieces and my sister-in-law, a fun memory for all; everyone but me, that is, as I was out of town!)

I even remembered to ask my son for pictures of my daughter and her date, to text them to me so I could experience as much of the event as possible. So there I sat in my hotel room after midnight, knowing I had to wake up in five short hours, looking at pictures of my daughter heading to her prom. And I realized, again, and not for the first time, that truly, you never do quite leave your children at home, even when you don’t take them with you.

Meanwhile, it wasn’t prom, but I was having a few adventures of my own.

“My travels led me to where I am today. Sometimes these steps have felt painful, difficult, but led me to greater happiness and opportunities.” (Diana Ross)

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)

The Power Of A T-Shirt

Date: December 15, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It’s great to just disappear, grab a suitcase, switch the answering machine on and just go somewhere else.” (Dido Armstrong)

We made the most of our cruise, our time alone together and even our packing.

Prior to our departure, as we were packing for the trip I saw my husband add his BYU t-shirt to the pile of things he was planning to cruise with. I thought it was odd (in my prior cruise experience, we had packed evening wear, tuxedos, jewelry and business casual clothing to wear during the day; t-shirts had been for exercising—but I had a sneaking suspicion in this new life that wasn’t what they were going along for!) but I didn’t say anything. Finally, I couldn’t help myself.

“A BYU t-shirt, huh?” I commented. “Don’t we want to dress nicer than that?”

“I always make sure I take a BYU shirt on cruises,” my husband replied. “You’d be amazed at the people you meet and the conversations you have because you’re wearing one.”

I didn’t really believe that, but one thing remarriage to a man who is now 50 has taught me: he has his own mind, his own way of doing things and it has all worked very well for him for the almost five decades prior to meeting me so what can I say? Absolutely nothing. He is a tidy, helpful, very sufficient man who knows how to cook, clean and do laundry better than I do and he always looks nice…so I decided to trust him on that one. We didn’t discuss his packing choice any further.

A few days later, on the cruise, he put on his BYU t-shirt. I looked at him but was determined to not say anything—or request a shirt with a collar. He winked at me and acknowledged his wardrobe choice for the day by reminding me, “You never know who you’ll meet because you’re wearing a BYU shirt!” and we headed out to tour the city of Boston.

Believe it or not, before we got to the heart of the city of Boston, my oldest called me from college to share a Ponzi scheme-related experience he’d had with relatives of a victim (Yes, 2 1/2 years later we still confront those types of things several times each year) and I confess, as much as I try to rise above all that garbage, I hung up the phone feeling a little low.

I tried not to let it show, but I’m a terrible actress. My husband asked, “Are you ok?”

I stalwartly replied, “Absolutely.”

My husband added, “Are you sure? Because if I’d just received a call like that, I think I’d be a little bit upset. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” I replied. “I’m fine.”

So we continued on in search of The Freedom Trail, Paul Revere’s house, Harvard campus and various other destinations we had planned. However that day, they were filming a movie in Boston. Many streets, like most of the streets on our tourist map, were blocked off. So we wound our way around different streets, side streets and made all kinds of detours.

And then unexpectedly, I heard it.

“ANDREA MERRIMAN!”

I paused. Had I just heard my name?

And then I heard it again: “ANDREA MERRIMAN!”

And before I knew it, one of my favorite people in the world and one of my closest Colorado friends (my friend who’d been with me through my nightmare in every possible way—she even helped me write my divorce) was running toward me. Before I could even say anything, the first words out of her mouth were, “Thank goodness your husband is wearing a BYU shirt, or I’d NEVER have noticed you!”

What are the odds that one of your favorite people and closest friends from Colorado moves to NYC for one year after you have moved to Utah and you both end up in the city of Boston, on the same day, at the same time, winding your way through the same off-the-beaten-path streets due to the filming of a movie and you run into each other…thanks to a BYU t-shirt?

Another beauty of the unexpected life.

(And by the way, although I didn’t tell her anything of my crazy Ponzi morning, that chance encounter with my good friend was exactly what I needed to shake it off and have one of the best days of my cruise! The entire day, and everything I got to see, and getting to share it all with my husband turned out to equal one day of absolute perfection.)

All because of a BYU t-shirt.

The power of a BYU t-shirt.

“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” (Mark Twain)

Did I Say Strange?

Date: December 13, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“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.

It’s A Lot Of Fun

Date: December 12, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I can rock out anything. I mean, I can rock out a little ‘Time After Time’. I can do a little ‘Greased Lightning’. It depends on the mood…and it’s a lot of fun.” (Kristen Bell)

The extent of anything even approaching rocking out in my life took place, for the first and last time, during high school. I was the lead “singer” in an airband. I imitated Kim Wilde, we rocked “We’re The Kids In America,” and I have the pictures to prove it. Cut to 2011.

In honor of my husband’s 50th birthday, we went on a leaf peeping cruise with some of his family and friends. I wasn’t sure what to expect. We’d only been married 7 months, I didn’t know some of the people we were cruising with at all and I was nervous about leaving my children for 10 days. (In my entire 20 year marriage, all 7,300 nights of it if I’ve done the math correctly, I left my children a total of 16 nights–discounting hospitalizations, but those are another story! In fact, to avoid that very dilemma of leaving my children and for the sake of creating family memories, I’d taken my children to Africa, New Zealand, Turkey, Russia and many other places so that I could see the world and share it with my children without having to leave them. ) But my new husband is a big believer in couples’ “getaways.” So although wary about the whole thing, I agreed to go.

The closer we got to our departure, the more nervous I was, to which my husband would reassure me, “This is going to be great! Traveling without children is a WHOLE new world! You’ll be amazed at how fun it is, all the fun you can have, staying out late, dancing and socializing with adults!” So we went.

And the first night on the cruise ship, wouldn’t you know, we ended up in a karaoke lounge? I’m married to a performer, so it’s something he apparently is familiar with and participates in on occasion, however, my only brush with karaoke in my entire life was the karaoke scene in “My Best Friend’s Wedding,” when an apparently intoxicated Cameron Diaz belts out an awful performance and everyone claps and cheers her on anyway. But here’s what I learned that night in the Carnival karaoke lounge: I was surprised to discover how true-to-life that movie scene was.

Good, bad, or really terrible…anybody stood and sang for the room. The audience listened politely every time, cheered the singers on and actually clapped for them at the end! The really good performers got a louder show of appreciation, but everyone received pretty generous applause. I actually became a little more impressed at my fellow man after seeing them participate, on stage or in the audience, of karaoke! And I sat there innocently watching, not feeling threatened in the least by what was going on around me–it wasn’t my business or my world, at all, after all–until my husband said to me, “Ok, it’s your turn. What are you going to sing?”

NO.

I don’t “do” karaoke.

Never.

No way.

My husband wasn’t about to let me off easy, he insisted I participate, so I finally said, “I’ll only do it if they have ABBA,” knowing they’d never have music like that at karaoke. (I TOLD you I didn’t know anything about karaoke!) They had it. And before I knew what was happening, I found myself heading to the stage. Alone. Head spinning. All I could think was, “This is not me. This is not my life. This is not what I do. If someone had told me two years ago I’d EVER be doing karaoke…” Just the usual disbelief my old self has for the new me living the unexpected life.

I ended up singing a duet with the karaoke hostess who guided me through the whole experience because it was my first time. We even harmonized. Our own little version doing what Anni-Frid and Agnetha did best—”Dancing Queen.”

I don’t drink, so I can’t be sure, but I think it may not have been QUITE as bad as the movies.

“Everybody’s a filmmaker today.” (John Milius)

I wish I could say that was my last foray into film, but it wasn’t. It gets worse. Much worse.

What I Miss

Date: June 9, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Dogs need to sniff the ground; it’s how they keep abreast of current events. The ground is a giant dog newspaper, containing all kinds of late-breaking news items, which, if they are especially urgent, are often continued in the next yard.” (Dave Barry)

Speaking of yards, I had a yard sale last weekend. A neighbor perused my junk, pulled me aside, and said, “Tell me. You’ve had a lot in your life and now you have a little. Is there anything about the old life that you miss?”

I didn’t even have to think about it.

Yes, I miss something. I know what it is and it crosses my mind every single day try as I might to not dwell on the past or think about my losses.

It’s true. I used to enjoy a lot, materially, in life: a decent-sized home with custom travertine stone floors, granite counters, custom cabinetry, Rembrandts and other fine art and etchings adorning its walls; art sculptures in the yard along with a Sportcourt, a swimming pool, ponds filled with expensive and unique Koi fish and water lilies, tetherball, a in-ground trampoline; world travel; cruises; fine dining; luxury cars; a boat; ATVs of all types; a motorhome (although I never loved that one!); shopping at Nordstrom; a house cleaner; a gardener; money in the bank and absolutely NO financial worries or concerns; and a plethora of other privileges, to name a few that quickly come to mind. All of it was once mine—or so I thought.

But do you know, out of all of it, what I miss? (And this is the answer I gave to my neighbor.)

Just one thing.

And it’s actually not a “thing.”

The only thing about the old life that I miss is…being a stay-at-home mom focused on raising my children and taking care of the home they live in full-time. Being there when they are sick. Greeting them when they arrive home from work or school. Allowing my little one to sleep in if he is tired.

That’s it.

“I’m a very lazy, stay-at-home kind of girl.” (Jerry Hall)

Except now I’m a full-time working one, grateful for a job that allows me to provide for my children.

“Not only is women’s work never done, the definition keeps changing.” (Bill Copeland)

Such is the unexpected life.

Where’d You Go?

Date: April 19, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“And remember, no matter where you go, there you are.” (Confucius)

A day or two after we returned from our honeymoon, one evening #5 came home from work, excited about his new plan for his 50th birthday:  he had put a deposit down on an east coast cruise in the autumn. He gave me the sales pitch about how wonderful it would be to celebrate his birthday that way and told me we’d only have to be gone from the kids for one week.

I replied, “One week? That is a long time. I’ve only left my children twice, their entire lives, for that long.”

He said, “I know, and I know you always used to take your children everywhere with you, but you’ll be amazed at what it’s like to travel without kids. It’s a completely different experience when it’s only adults. You can do totally different things. It will be a great trip for us!”

I answered, “Yes, I’m sure it would be fun and I know it’s fun to sometimes get away without children. I went on my honeymoon without children and had a FABULOUS time!”

He smiled and asked, “Oh, you did? Where did you go?”

He HAD to be kidding, right? I mean, we’d only been back from our Las Vegas honeymoon for two days! I clarified, “My honeymoon–to Las Vegas? Just a few days ago?”

You’re probably asking, “How could you have had such a wonderful time…and #5 doesn’t even remember it?” I was wondering the same thing!

“OH!” he responded. “I thought you were talking about your FIRST honeymoon—I thought you were going to tell me something nice about your first honeymoon!”

THAT was second marriage moment #2. And THAT was when I realized there were probably going to be a few of them. And I was right, so I’m thankful I’ve at least found them entertaining to one degree or another since I have to live them!

“Everything is ironic to me. There are moments I find hysterical, but I’m probably the only one who would find that, except for a few people.” (River Phoenix)

Manner of Travel

Date: December 10, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Driving a brand new car feels like driving around in an open billfold with the dollars flapping by your ears as they fly out the window.” (Grey Livingston)

Not that I know a heck of a lot about driving a brand new car these days. However, when in one moment you discover all of your possessions (including your money, your home and your automobiles) have been seized by the government, and you’re visualizing being left alone as a single mother to raise your four children in a cardboard box on the street, you’re grateful for ANY vehicle to drive, regardless of how used it is.

At least, that’s how I felt and what I was telling myself the day the passenger window of our little, used, red car unrolled itself for no reason as we drove down the street—and unfortunately, wouldn’t roll itself up again. We tried everything we could think of to “fix” it, but to no avail. We consulted a car dealer who estimated it would cost between $200-$300 to fix. So we taped up the gaping hole with garbage bags and hockey tape (no duct tape for the Merrimans, we’re a hockey family!) and drove the car as it was while my children and I contemplated what we were going to sacrifice to be able to afford to fix the window.

It was a chilly, unforgettable experience that resulted in having to keep a close eye on Utah weather, to ensure our little car was in the garage when it rained, or snowed.

“…that’s the wonderful thing about family travel:  it provides you with experiences that will remain locked forever in the scar tissue of your mind.” (Dave Barry)

As the temperature dropped and the precipitation increased, and as I experienced the unforgettable memories that come with driving a car in the winter with no window, buried under blankets and blasting the heat in an attempt to stay somewhat comfortable as I drove around town…I had to shake my head and laugh at another unexpected adventure that was now mine! How far I’ve come from my previous life! (It was a chilly reminder of some not so subtle differences between my old life and now.)

And then, safety reasons aside, it simply got too cold. There was no other choice; we had to fix the window. And as in more times than I can count since moving into the cul-de-sac with the greatest neighbors in the history of Utah and the world, once again, a neighbor came to my rescue.

One neighbor noticed the “garbage bag window” and suggested we have her husband look at it. Her husband followed up on her offer before I could even call him. He recommended a repair place, we dropped the car off, and when my son went to pick it up, the repair shop wouldn’t let us pay for it because my neighbor had taken care of it. I called my neighbor, asked how much I owed him, and he wouldn’t let me pay him. When I tried to argue against that, he hung up on me. (Just kidding. He said the call dropped for no apparent reason.) But the bottom line was, my neighbor took care of our car problem for us. (Not for the first time, I might add.)

Scar tissue. It comes with the territory of an unexpected life. But the above is an example of the kind of “scar tissue” I’m experiencing. The kind that covers everything. And heals.

Thanks to our neighbors, we’re traveling in style (with all windows in the car) again. And we couldn’t be happier.

“Happiness is not a station you arrive at, but a manner of traveling.” (Margaret B. Runbeck)

Isn’t that the truth?

And many thanks, again, to all those who exemplify traveling in such style and who help us make happiness our manner of traveling, as well.

Then It Was Gone

Date: August 25, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Women have a wonderful instinct about things. They can discover everything except the obvious.” (Oscar Wilde)

I heard from Bachelor #5 again.

He emailed me, thanked me for going to dinner, told me I was a trooper for living through what I’d gone through and remaining positive and seeking to create a happy life… and then he continued with his busy life, the holidays, and travel.

He was organized, planned his life and was sort of on a “schedule.” He kept in touch via email about once a week. He texted me about once a week. He asked me out once a week, depending on his travel and schedule, and as busy as we both were, I’m amazed I was usually available the nights he asked me out. He took me to dinners, a dance class, musicals, plays–always fun and unique things, especially compared to most of the men I dated.

I met his friends and some of his children. He always had a story to tell about something, and was always very nice. He was also my divorce expert: he had been divorced three years longer than me and had lived through everything I was facing. He was very thoughtful to check in with me after my “firsts” (first Christmas, etc…) to see how things went.

But that’s as far as my analysis of Bachelor #5 went. I had pre-determined he was too old for me; I certainly didn’t think he “liked” me! He was just a nice, older bearded man that I assumed felt bad for me, a newly single mom.

Then one night he picked me up for a date. I looked over at him as he was backing out of the driveway talking to me and I was struck by how different he looked. I felt like I was looking at a stranger! I couldn’t figure out what was causing my confusion. I thought I knew him, but all of a sudden I felt like I didn’t.

And then it hit me. He had shaved, the beard was gone.

I was stunned by how young he looked and how nice looking I thought he was. It was like I had never seen him before. (And I probably hadn’t. With the gray beard, I had never really looked–had never let myself look.)

“And when I heard this thing, I rent my garment and my mantle, and plucked off the hair of my head and of my beard, and sat down astonied.” (The Bible)