Whenever I see an interesting looking door or entrance to a building I can't help but wonder what lies behind it. This is no more so than when looking at a doorway to an historic home. I can't help but wonder how many people have gone in and out of that doorway. Who were they and what were they doing with their lives? How were they feeling? Was the home a happy place or a place of sadness? A place of adventure or of trials and tribulations?
Perhaps the home was a busy one with lots of children running around excitedly. The home may have adapted over the years to keep up with the changing needs of the family. Spaces used for study or ready for friends to visit. Cupboards full of discarded toys and clothes - outgrown but maybe too good to throw away for ever.
Perhaps the home was a place of reprieve from the harsh world outside. A place where people worked hard or struggled to find a job to pay for their basic needs. Over the years the family may have become more or less able to sustain itself. Surviving nonetheless. Perhaps appreciating what they had with each other. The simple joys of life. Keeping a roof over their heads. That may have been enough.
Perhaps the home was an unhappy place. A place where people were eager to leave - whether for the day or forever. A place of sadness or resentment. A place where people brought out the worst in each other. Conflict and tensions leading to break downs and pulling apart from each other.
Perhaps the home was a lonely place. Space that was empty. Quietness that overwhelmed. Reminders of others, of times gone by. Loneliness might have been appreciated, honored or even relished. It might not necessarily have been a bad thing.
There can be many things behind the door. Signs of times gone past. Hopes and plans for the future. All held in place right behind that doorway.