Jessica

I'm reflecting. That's what happens, especially when someone close to you dies. 2009 was a year of quiet observation, I guess you could say. I'm extremely grateful for the unconditional support from my dear friends. I feel fortunate to be surrounded by strong, creative souls. One of these gems is my old friend, Jess. She's a wife, a mother and a writer full of incredible spirit. This is a beautiful poem she wrote to her husband. I love her words and want to share them with everyone. I hope you don't mind Jess.

Red Door

For our anniversary, I would like a red door. 
I know, I know. You like to make fun of me for this love of red doors.
 
Argument number one in defense of my desire for a red door:

A red door is a symbol of prosperity. No, I have not done my due diligence on this fact, but I am choosing to believe it. I think this is called faith.  At any rate, I feel prosperous with you.  You, husband, have brought me prosperity. Don’t laugh, you know that I love to call you husband. 

Argument number two and three in defense of my desire for a red door.

I like red doors and our sons’ favorite color is red: we share this thing. This red door will naturally lead them home to us. Through the red door they will come sometimes laughing, sometimes whispering, sometimes angry and/or moping, but always through the red door. And it is my intention that more often than not, we will sit down for dinner or whatnot, and reflect momentarily on how prosperous we are in the having of red doors to come through, in the having of each other, in the having of the day—in the having.

JC