FRONT DOORS

The first time I opened my front door was the start of a new phase of my life – just me and my two children. I walked through to what I hoped would be happiness and a bright new future. The door was shiny and clean – gleaming in the Spring sunshine and with reflections from the glass hitting the driveway to the delight of my dancing three year old daughter.

Over the first few years, that door saw my children coming in and out – tiny in their nursery and first school uniforms, clutching teddies to help them get through the day at school; bringing “Piggy Wiggy” home from school for the weekend!! It saw my daughter pirouetting through in ballet gear, tap dancing through in her noisy tap shoes and trying to somersault through after gymnastics classes. It saw my son in his football boots, knocking off the mud against the uncomplaining glass front, smashing his tennis racquet against its frame to demonstrate his winning volley.

School bags have bashed its shiny surface; shopping bags full of clothes have been delightedly brought in and then there have been the shopping bags full of food, food and more food!!!

The door has stood firm when we have been away – letting the suitcases bash against its sides with no murmur of complaint, but keeping out all unwelcome visitors until our return home.

The seasons come and go, but as the years have passed my faithful door likes the changes less and less. In the Summer the heat makes the door expand so it is hard to close fully and in the Winter the cold contracts and its very frame creaks and moans; and however valiantly it tries, my lovely door can no longer keep out all the chill winds. It has protected us against the Autumn rain and the Winter snow, the ice and the hail, but has always let in the welcoming Spring sunshine and the warming Summer breezes.

A few more years passed but the door still did good service – opening to friends and family – a new sister-in-law, then a nephew and two nieces with prams, car seats and changing bags. The postman came every day, sometimes with cards and presents for birthdays and Christmases, flowers from admirers (oh well a bit of wishful thinking never hurt anyone!), but more often bills, bills and yet more bills.

One day it opened to let in a girl hammering frantically on the door. She had been beaten up on the street by her boyfriend and the closing door provided her (and us) with the comfort of security and warmth. It then later opened again to the policeman who came to take her to safety.

Now my children are teenagers the door seems to open more and more – friends  coming and going, me popping in and out being a taxi driver. The door opens later and later each morning (teenagers should get a prize for sleeping) and later and later at night.

But the door never complains …much….a new lively puppy has finally seen the seal on the door give up and give in. Where it had become worn out, now it is broken in two – a puppy’s sharp teeth are no match for the long suffering rubber seal on the old door. A well aimed stone – kicked to show me a football move!! – has left a large chip in the glass front. And the framework needs a lot more tender care than in the past – the lustre has gone from the frame, the sheen has disappeared…my door is slowly getting old and losing its joie de vivre.

It is sadly time to say goodbye to this door – it has seen laughter and tears over the years, but I will always remember it fondly as the beginning of new times. Farewell my wonderful door – you have done us proud over the years.

This is my entry for a blogger competition being run on the blog page Yale Doors.