It is a simple sound. Some people might label it as noise. Some of us though hear the sound and it reminds us of days gone by. Maybe it's a Southern thing. I suppose it might really be more of a rural thing, something that many in small towns across America shared without really thinking too much about it. Recently, I heard the sound again, recognized it as some lost piece of my childhood and smiled about hearing it again after all the years in between.
Our recent house renovations took an oft-unused part of our house, our deck, and transformed it into a screened-in deck. The previous deck was nice. We had an outdoor table and wrought iron chairs there. Our grill lived there as well. The major issue we always had with this deck though was how it caught sunshine during the heat of the day making it the hottest spot in the summer. Often if you could tolerate the elements, the bugs showed up to feast on our flesh.
With the renovation, we covered the top of the deck and screened in the sides, added a ceiling fan and light. Now, we have a much more tolerable place to hang out on lazy days or eat a late dinner while the sun slides behind the trees in front of the mountains in the distance to the west. Our contractor built an additional walk-out to the end of the deck so we could use our grill in the open air. He separated it by the screen and a screen door.
Recently, we were on our new deck when Hannah stepped out onto the extended deck. This extension is pretty cool. It is in the open but allows you to feel like you are looking out over all you see, even if what we actually own and pay property taxes on just extends down to the fence in the woods midway to the next neighborhood behind us.
Hannah likes this extension. On this day, she pranced around for a moment or two out there. Then she returned to the deck briefly before going inside the house. As she left the deck extension, the screen door slammed behind her. This was music to my ears.
We had a screen door part of my childhood. One set of grandparents had such a door as well. I remember hearing it throughout my childhood.
When you hear it close, or slam, it is a distinctive sound. When I hear it I think of times when I rushed out that door into the wide outdoor world and the possibilities that then became available. True, sometimes that door slamming behind me was because a parental figure just wanted me out of the house, still, rushing out that door was a change of scenery that was needed at just the right time. That screen door slam could also be made when coming in from the outside back inside as well. That direction usually had a different, but still, memorable meaning even then.
Maybe that sound, that noise to some, is a welcome reminder of the past. Our schools had no screen doors. Church didn't as well. Growing older, I discovered work did not have screen doors either. Maybe that sound is a reminder of home and childhood.
That sound was the door opening literally and figuratively to adventure, fresh air, imagination and good times. Sometimes, especially when it slammed from the outside in, it was because you knew you had returned to a safe place.
One generation often assigns a meaning to something that another generation assigns some other meaning to over time. I have no idea what Hannah's generation will think of a slamming screen door. It may not register at all. It may just be part of the chatter and noise that swallows so much of life. When I hear it now, I think when I was Hannah's age now. Somehow that sound takes me back to a time when just being a kid was really all that mattered.
Some part of me hopes one day that simple sound will echo in Hannah's ears and it will take her back to her childhood home. She'll remember the screened-in deck with the screen door. She may think of specific memories made there. Maybe she'll recall times when that deck was her playhouse for her imagination. Maybe she will think of times when we listened to the birds sing in the morning sun. Maybe she will remember times we had supper there with the ceiling fan on low so it wouldn't blow out the candle on the table. Maybe that simple sound will remind her how sometimes we just sat there at the end of a day or week and found comfort being at home and being family. I hope then it brings a smile to her face and warms her heart in a moment when she really needs it.
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