Homefires

She wore nothing but the best designer clothes and shoes, never appeared anywhere without her nails done and her face made up, and accessorized with oversized jewels. When she finally decided it was time to experiment with blue jeans, To keep up with the times, she told me, and the young people! She chose Christian Dior and I didn't have the heart to tell her that most of my jeans came from the Army Navy surplus store - it would have been distressing to her.
She had come from a small town in Tennessee, married well, produced three children. She was someone who pretty much actually practiced her faith on a daily basis and was open hearted, tolerant beyond any requirement, determined to make everyone feel at home and welcome. I doubt she ever understood the city girl her son had married but no mind, she was a woman who in large measure respected the choices of others and she accepted me with no questions asked. I sometimes thought that she felt her it was her mission to make up for what she was sure I had been denied in my childhood - it was well meant, born of affection and caring, but often suffocating - she went out of her way to assure that I was included in everything, whether I wanted to be or not - free will and family don't always make the best partners. But I loved her, for her Dior blue jeans, her infectious laugh, her kindness and concern. She was, in an odd way, a submissive and traditional southern woman, putting church and family above all else, being charitable with her wealth, and keeping her private battles to herself. For surely there were demons to fight, seeing all her children marry and divorce, watching them outgrow her care and control, now and again being treated more as a decoration than a flesh and blood woman with the power of reason. Life on a pedestal can be airy, carefree, as well as lonely.
She was, so she said, happy and fulfilled being in second place to the powerful and dominating force of the man she had married. If she had ambitions, she channeled them into her children, her community, and her churchwork. She was happy traveling, seeing to everyone else's needs, organizing and keeping track, shopping and antiquing. She kept the homefires burning and was a proper, admired, and docile wife, every whim granted, every wish granted. I didn't want to but there were times when I wondered if there might not be a part of her that was restless being under the generous and accomodating thumb of an adoring husband, if she might not have occasionally wanted to tilt the balance of power - just a bit. As close as we were, I doubt I knew the real woman anymore than she knew me.