Tuesday, August 17, 2010

In The Still Of The Night The Sound Of Silence Revisited


It started as an unconscious homage to Florence.

During the hot days, she, like many of our neighbors, would prop open her front door and let whatever breeze existed waft in from the stairwell's window.

With so many opened doors our different lives would also drift up and down the stairs, the sounds and smells and conversations, the T.V. going, all weaving in and out making a village out of thirty-five apartments.

One night, decades later in a much smaller apartment building, I opened the door during a non-stop heat wave, and a breeze blew in and as it came in, the cat ran out, the cool of 100 year old marble floors and walls too much to resist.

And soon that door, like Florence's, stayed open as the cat and I, wandering the stairs in the middle of the night, listened to our neighbors sleep, hummed along with all the air conditioners in the air shaft and sat in the still and the silence.

I miss the normalcy of open doors during hot days and sleepless nights, and when my door is closed because the neighbors are awake, I miss my mother.

7 comments:

mybabyjohn said...

I miss mine too.
Simpler times are gone when we could leave doors open. We used to have friends that never locked their doors. If you went to see them and they weren't home you could walk in and leave them a note on their kitchen table. Now, even if we are just in the backyard, we lock the doors. Sad.

City Of Strangers said...

CO - That's sweet. I'm trying to remember the last time I lived in a place where people kept their doors open in the heat and I think I have to go all the way back to Montreal in the 80's, or perhaps even my childhood . . .

T.

Bucko said...

Moms! Love the image and the thought. But even the idea of leaving a door open gives me the shakes--I must have fully acclimatized to current urban life without being aware of it. But then, I always had my bedroom door closed against my sister, even on hottest days.

CG said...

That's so evocative. There's something so intriguing about sounds coming from areas unseen that change as doors open and close. Also the mystery of muffled voices - trying to make out the sense of the words when you can't quite grasp them.

Goggla said...

Missing your mother...I feel it.

I guess the college dorm was the last place I would (could) leave my door open and hear the sounds of others. I liked to know everyone else was asleep before I went to bed.

The blackout of 2003 was the last time I heard the 'sounds of silence' through the air shaft. It was so dang hot, all the windows were open, but the doors stayed locked. Through the air shaft, I could hear ice cubes clinking into a glass upstairs...

Melanie said...

I miss my Mom too--we never left our doors open--we even had a backyard but my Mom thought it too dangerous to play in it.

c.o. moed said...

Thank you for all the comments. It really is that wonderment of where and who and how we are with our neighbors. The Hentry Street Daughters (see previous posts of Inheritance, Neighbor) also spoke of changing rule to accomodate new kinds of neighbors - those who did not live with doors open. After decades of living in the co-ops with doors opened they would get a letter from management if they did. You can't even leave your shoes outside the doors anymore. and with that is the loss of family and company and home.