Pearls of Wisdom

Photo by Theresa Thompson

When Barbara Billingsley died on Saturday, so did an ideal.

I've always called my sister-in-law "June." Her name is not "June," of course, but my children will likely be in their teens before they figure that out.

See, the first few times I stopped for a visit after my brother and sister-in-law got married, "June" was vacuuming in a dress, wearing heels and pearls. "June" seemed like the obvious nickname--named for the all-American wife who kindly encouraged her husband and carefully guided her sons while dusting and mopping in Sunday duds.

I was quite impressed by June Cleaver and my June. I can barely balance in heels when walking--let alone pushing a Dirt Devil.

I am sad about Barbara Billingsley's death. She was television's original TV mom--a woman who openly demonstrated to a generation of Baby Boomers that it's okay to care for your family and your home. You don't have to think of your husband as a big, fat goon or wish your kids belonged to somebody else. In fact, you shouldn't.

What's so wrong about aspiring to be someone who loves her family?

In a perfect "last scene" to Billingsley's life, her own children--two sons, as irony would have it--praised her for being not unlike June Cleaver in real life. She loved her family. She loved her home.

Known for saying, “Ward, I’m a little worried about the Beaver,” I would say to her today, "June, I'm a little worried about the moms you leave behind."

And tomorrow--just because--I think I'll wear pearls.