Sleeping Amazons

Once I stood before a garden stairway flanked by two stone lions. In this far-away place and this garden where the fates of the world were decided, Churchill  stood long ago. He was powerful and his wife, largely unknown, tended to his will. She made him strong in her apparent weakness while he went about the business of his calling. The lion lay sleeping, its great head upon its paw. Looking peaceful and harmless we all patted its silent head and took pictures. We went away to our homes and lives. How many women are sleeping beside lions that when awakened are lethal? These women are sleeping amazons. They have power  that no male can match. Their awesome strength is not brawn but tolerance and love and caring beyond what their men deserve. I spoke to a woman not long ago who endured over twenty years as caregiver to a brutish man, albeit ridden with a frustrating illness but who unreasonably took his anger out on her. She is old now after his ultimate death and few other men are willing to want a woman of her age but still attractive and resourceful yet beaten by years, one who is no longer young, smooth and malleable. And again, what woman knowing the dark side of men, would want to take on yet another burden of being handmaid to him who sits about fork and knife in hand, wanting his dinner on time or else?  It is not to say that all men are like this, but sadly and truly, most are to some degree. Mothers make them so in their kindness. And not all women are saints, but most are. It begs the question, why do women who are sleeping amazons persist in being abused by men who are bullies and demanding boors? It appears to be  woman's nature to endure and tolerate and remain faithful to those who make their lives miserable all of their lives. Until it is too late. I remember the sweet man who made my life a beautiful land in which to walk and grow and love. I pity other women whose men who don't know how to give their love freely and appreciate their women, the sleeping amazons.