“Trust in Me"
I have a hard time with trust. It was November 1975. I was ten. Our parents called us into their bedroom. Mom was sitting on the bed, looking sad. Dad was standing beside her. And one or the other of them, I can't remember which, said the words that broke my heart: "Your mother and I...your father says he...we aren't going to be living together anymore." I never saw it coming. Okay, I was ten. Maybe when you're ten you don't notice as much as you do when you are eleven. When I was ten, I believed my parents were happy. Okay, so Dad worked long hours at the hospital, and we didn't see him much. And he had been away for long periods of time, first, back when I was six, when he was serving as a surgeon for the Air Force stationed in Thailand. (This was the Vietnam war; he became an outstanding trauma surgeon that year.) Dad was away again the six months before he and Mom called us into their bedroom. He had been down in Gainesville, Florida,...