I own tons of red dishes.   

I did not want the red dishes.  They are the life my mother wanted for me. 

It was a losing battle to dissuade her from this obsession that I posses fine dinnerware.

I now own an absolute gluttony and excess of red dishes. 

Perhaps I can blame it on the ex-mother-in-law.  She gave me the first piece of Avon Cape Cod when I started dating her son.  He and I soon moved in together.  My folks immediately disowned me and I did not see or speak to them for a couple years. 

That changed overnight when I announced that we were getting married then moving to Texas.  Suddenly my mother was going to come see where I had been living and “make arrangements”.  She zero’d in on that damn Cape Cod bowl on her one and only visit to the apartment.

Wedding arrangements were an exercise in futility.  I flatly refused to register for china, silver, crystal and linens.   The ceremony was to be close friends only and we would print the invitations for the reception dinner. I was going to wear a tea length cocktail dress, no attendants or wedding party.  Simple, elegant, spare.

It was not to be.  Tests of will ensued.  Eventually I gave up and just let it all happen how everyone else needed it to be.  I wore the white gown with a long train, had many attendants and vast amounts of flowers, candles, lace, a champagne fountain and an ice sculpture.  Gag.  This was not, is not and never will be me.  To this day, I advise eloping. 

I surrendered to many things, but never did the gift registry. 

It must be one of those unwritten rules that women, wives, mothers, do not take their proper place in society and their household without a china pattern.  This was a quandary for Mother.  She had failed to establish my position. 

Until she remembered that red Avon Cape Cod dish. 

Every birthday, anniversary, Christmas and gift giving occasion for the next 15 years brought red dishes.  The whole famdamnly joined in. My mother’s passion that I would have formal dinnerware was an infection that spread through the female ranks.  Aunts, in-laws, grandmas and godparents all presented me with Avon Cape Cod for any occasion that warranted a gift. 

Here are a few of the many-Avon Cape Cod  

Dinner plates, salad plates, dessert plates.  Water glasses, wine glasses, coffee cups.  Dessert bowls, serving bowls, gravy boats.   Napkin rings, sugar bowl, creamer and flower vase.  All the bells and whistles. My subtle hints, not so subtle hints, then outright lists with store names, colors, sizes, did not result in a present I would use or enjoy.

When Gran passed, everyone agreed, I should get GRANDMA’S RED DISHES too.  NOOO!!!   Dividing the stuff of lifetimes created warzones among those siblings and years passed before the tug of war ended.  I stayed far removed from the fracas, a few hundred miles south.  After the estate dust settled, more red dishes in a different pattern were added to my substantial inventory.

Here are a few of the several from Gran

I know what you wanted for me mom.  The charm school, etiquette classes and ballroom dance lessons endured in my pre-teen years made it clear I was being groomed to join you among the “ladies who lunch”.  I never made your dream for me happen, but I did live dreams of my own.  I know you came to terms with the disappointment and I feel your blessing now.

Mother's favorite dish is colored red.  Red is also the color of the relationship between us.  The passion, the anger, the blood and the heat of two women who love each other, but still have to sometimes remember how to like each other.