The Door

Many times, I stared at it from my bedroom. Every time I looked at it, it sent chills down my spine, and it rose the hairs on my skin. I fear it, I've always feared it. Well, ever since my dad passed away a little over a decade ago. Every time I walked past it the thought of opening it crossed my mind. Staring me in the face with its shiny glossy Un-fingerprinted finish on it tempted me even more. But I couldn't, I was afraid, afraid to face the sorrow and the sadness that was left inside the day that dad passed away in there. Until one day, it was on his would-be birthday while walking past it again, I saw something flash on the dulled brass doorknob. For the life of me I couldn't understand why or how there was a flash. It was late morning, and the corridor was semi-bright, so, that being said, no lights had been on. My door is directly across from my dad's and my door was closed. To the left and to the right were empty white walls. I thought, possibly it flashed off my belt buckle, but nope, I had my jammies on. Could it be a reflection off my glasses? Nope, I took them off when I washed up. Shiny shoes? Nope, I was wearing my slippers. I was completely baffled. So, I went into my room at stared at that damn knob from across my hallway hoping to try to understand, or possibly see another flash so that I could have some kind of comprehension as to why there was a flash on the knob. Then, out-of-the-blue, for some reason I felt the strongest urge to go and twist the knob and go inside and face my fear. So, with sweaty hands and looking downward I twisted it. I pushed it open as slowly and quietly as humanly possible. After standing there still for what felt like a lifetime, I finally lifted my head, opened my eyes, and stepped inside his room. Seconds after stepping inside all the fear and sorrow seemed to be drenched from my body and soul. In fact, it was completely the opposite, not only did I not feel fear or sorrow, but I felt at ease as warmth engulfed my bones and flesh. His war metals incased still shined. The glow over-shadowed the dust on hi bowling trophies and his (#2-iron), in which he used to sink his one and only ever hole-in-one with. His stack of mostly self-worthy pennies was still spread out on his nightstand. The hours that man spent looking at them with his magnifying glass hoping to find that very rare coin. After spending about a half an hour and feeling soothed and content, I slowly walked to the passageway, twisted the knob, and exited. Halfway down the corridor I turned and looked- (((The knob flashed)))
 
To myself, I spoke. 

"Thanks dad, I love you too" 

I was so afraid 
my fear and sorrow vanished 
the door knob flashed twice

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023



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Date: 10/15/2023 7:42:00 PM
A door is such a powerful metaphor. How many doors in our lives have remained closed due to our fear? Some doors we pass through willingly, other fill us with trepidation. A terrific write, Charles, with its other worldly connection to your father. Be well. Brian
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Date: 10/15/2023 2:59:00 AM
- Woow ... his soul was there ... I experience something similar in the house of my grandparents after their passing ... (I got goosebumps) ... a great write, Charlie :) - hugs
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Date: 10/15/2023 2:43:00 AM
This is a great memory that should have been solved earlier. A great tribute to your father. Blessings.
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Date: 10/14/2023 1:49:00 PM
"The Door"s a wonderful story/write. "Love It" Have a blessed weekend..........
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