The Perfect Couple
My Father and my Mother, as others from young generation, were lured to the modern comforts and busy lifestyle in the city and they could not wait to work in one of the many factories and institutions there. They finished their compulsory schooling as fast as they could and hungrily entered the ‘big, bad world’, earning money during days and spending them on dancing floor during nights. They came back to their old village just to sleep, catch a new breath and dream about with whom and where to spend next night. My Grandmother was there to cook and clean after them and my Grandfather was there to earn money for family and make family decisions. They laughed on the communist ideals and did not care that everyone earned the same. At least they did not need to work hard or compete with someone. They sat, looking bored and half asleep on the long compulsory communist village meetings dreaming about their boyfriends or girlfriends. It was on one of these meetings that their eyes met across the room. My Father and my Mother decided to get married just after one more long and boring communist meeting.
When my Father came to ask for the hand in marriage of my Mother, the Grandfather happily accepted: “ A perfect timing, she has just finished her schooling and the perfect match between our old traditional family and your new progressive family.”
“ To the progress”, they happily clinked their wine glasses, when the Grandmother entered the room with the pot full of steaming soup.
She placed the hot pot carefully in the middle of the table and looked crossly at her husband: “ You married your eldest one just last year to the new progressive family and her husband is worse than a devil,” she stopped and crossed herself: “ Punching her so hard that they had to call an ambulance, just yesterday. That is your progress.”
The Grandfather and her next ‘son in Law’ ignored her, clinking their full glasses again and again happily. In two months there were two weddings, one small one in a church to satisfy Grandmother and one big one in the local Communist Council with a big reception afterwards under the big trees in the middle of the village so everyone could come and join in. Everyone was there to eye the handsome, confident groom and beautiful, proud bride and they nodded heads in agreement:
“ They are the perfect couple.”
The parents from both sides competed to make the life for the new couple as comfortable as possible. My Grandfather rented them a new flat in the middle of the city and my Father’s parents filled it with all new furniture and kitchen accessories.
The new mixer broke hitting the wall close to my Father’s head one evening because he forgot to notice my Mother’s new hairstyle. The new black and white TV fell of the new table when they ended up wrestling each other in the middle of their new living room. They quarreled who could have more dates, more admirers, more lovers…
They cheated on each other another two years and just one month after I was born they filled for a divorce.
Before I knew them I have always asked myself, why my parents had to divorce. Once I knew them, I understood straight away.
The perfect couples are ones who fit together as pieces of the puzzle. Both my parents who love to be in the centre of attention, who are used to constant admiration and praise have finally found the ideal partners who are happy to stay in shade and just nod head in agreement.
As modern parents they refused to be bound to constant care for a child and suddenly grandparents sounded like the great idea. The part of the in and out courtroom quarrels were dealing with the concept of the most suitable care for me.
My Father’s parents stated that they will provide the best care as they both worked in the name of progress and according to communist ideals. My Grandfather stated that he has a good position with the State Department Services and he is the member of the Communist Party for so long. My Grandmother just quietly added: “ I am just a housewife, but I have time and I cared for children all my life.”