Twin Beds

On the days when I fear I have lost my way, I remember my daddy. His optimism never seemed to falter and he tsk'd my worries away with a smile. Nothing you need worry about, he would tell me and give me a quick hug, The world will find a way.

Back then, the world usually did.

I wanted to believe in the world that he saw, wanted to have his faith in people and systems and justice. There was a war on, the Boston Strangler was roaming the city streets in a reign of absolute terror, Kennedy was dead, and each morning paper carried some story of corruption or murder. Scandal had been reborn in the city and the country was at odds with its very self. I never thought about the possibility that he wasn't sincere or might just want to protect me - I believed that he believed and it was almost enough to reassure me.

My mother, however, saw nothing but darkness. The world was inherently unfair and evil would always overcome good. The moon landing was a hoax, Nixon was the hope of the faithful, the world was flat and she was out of beer.

How two people so opposed had come together and created offspring was a mystery - how they stayed together was unfathomable- they had slept in twin beds for as long as I could remember. There was only day to day living, keeping food on the table and the bills paid - there were no dreams, no nights out together, no conversations, no shared times. We were all strangers under one roof, leading lives apart and estranged from each other even during the best of times.

I rarely thought of such things then unless there was some flare up that heated up the tension and brought it to the surface. Later I began to comprehend that people who hate each other can live together for years - no matter how dreadful things are in the frying pan, the fire might be hotter.

The war eventually came to an end, The Boston Strangler was eventually caught, the horrendous string of Mafia homicides eventually faded from the news and was replaced by the Manson murders. Watergate and Kent State happened and were forgotten too soon, protests and riots broke out over civil rights, Jimmy Hoffa vanished. The world was not an easy place but my daddy continued to believe and slept well on his side of the room.