This past weekend we went camping. At most campgrounds you have bathroom/shower buildings, pretty typical. This campground had wooden screen doors on each entrance to the dormitory style bathrooms. I glanced at them and thought they were functional,they served a good purpose; to keep the bugs out. My "soon to be" granddaughter said to me as we were exiting one afternoon, "these doors shut loud".
Her observation reminded me of the wooden screen door we had at our house and how it slammed shut every time someone came through. Hearing that sound again took me back to a time when my house was bustling with three boys coming and going. I would hear the "bang" when the kids came home from school and knew the house would come alive with activity from a day of being idle. When the boys were teens I knew if they made curfew, the door's hinges squeaked just enough to wake me up (no matter how hard they tried to shut it quietly). That comforting squeak let me know they were home safe. That door announced the arrival of friends, the return of a child wanting a brownie and the presence of a husband coming home from a long day's work.
Our screen door was painted white and showed gentle wear around the handle and on the frame where it fit a little snug. It had been abused by the cats and dogs so we nailed chicken-wire on the outside bottom to protect it. As the years went on and the kids moved away it was showing it's age but I just couldn't take it down. No this door couldn't come down, it stood as a worn out guardian at our front porch entrance, bidding welcome to all that entered.