For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.
I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?
In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.
In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.
In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.
DOOR
My
mother's dream was for all seven of us (parents and 5 kids) to live
in a one-room cabin – no doors. This thought made my stomach knot.
I've always needed and appreciated privacy.
Our
house on Willie Road in Folsom, Louisiana was a ranch-style home, all
one level. It had a long, narrow wood-paneled hallway, off of which
all the bedrooms were located. We kids would close all the doors and
literally climb the walls (one foot and hand on either wall of the
hall).
When
I was a teen and my boyfriend came over, the rule was “door
open.” I understood, but I didn't like it. One time we broke the
rule, and there was my father banging on the door, bellowing for us
to open it.
When
our teenage son was going through some stuff, we removed his bedroom
door. His eyes glittered in a way I'd never seen before. His stomach
was probably as knotty as mine had once been upon hearing my mother's
one-room cabin idea.
Sometimes
when I think about that same son who is now far away, I breathe this
message into the air: you
are loved; the door is always open.
Poignant memories from that one word, door. I remember my mother telling me that she could tell how my day had been when I came home from school if I slammed my bedroom door or simply closed it. I guess parents do notice doors, especially when children grow older and begin to close them.
ReplyDeleteahhh doors... I had one child that liked to hide behind them to scare people when they walked by and one child that swore I could see though them because I was a witch that wanted to make her life miserable
ReplyDelete