The other day, I opened my phone, went to Facebook, and sunlight from "The Blue Door" greeted me.
I have loved that painting for so long. I felt the universe was opening the door for me.
"The Blue Door", by R. Wintz was willed to me by my great aunt, Lillian Anderson, of Chippewa Falls,
Wisconsin. It was from the New York Graphic Society, print number 520.
Once when we were visiting, I got to sleep in Lillian's bed, tucked into a little alcove under the slanted
roof of the house. Directly across from the pillow, on the opposite wall, hung The Blue Door.
Lillian came to say goodnight and asked me if I liked the painting. I said yes. No one had ever asked
what I thought about art before.
Well, what do you like about it? And she named some parts of the picture. She said, the blue door?
And I said yes, the blue door.
The last time I saw Lillian, she was ensconced in a large bed in the dining room. I sat with her
sometimes and she told me stories. One day one of her stories scared me and I screamed.
She became iriitated and firmly told me to open the door under the stairs, which was right
there. My heart was pounding, for it was dark in the whole room but darkest in the closet.
I reached for the knob, turned it and looked inside. There were coats, hats and galoshes. Oh.
What did you learn from this? Well, just because it is dark and you don't know what's there
even if you someone told you there was a monster, Open The Door! and look
You will find the truth and will not be scared anymore.
When we came to the house the next time, when I was about five years old, I ran into the
dining room, looking for Lillian. But there was no Lillian, no bed, just their beautiful dining
room table, where grace was said in a lilting Norwegian before we dined.
The adults watched me and said, "Lillian's gone." "Where?" And they just sort of repeated
She is just gone.
Later in life I had alot of dreams about quilts, like mandalas, only square. And dining rooms where
the patterns were on a table or a bed. Finally I remembered Lillian in the dining room in
Chippewa Falls.
And now I have her picture, the one she looked at before she closed her eyes every night.
Today, I could tell her I love the writing desk, the chair, the inkwell, the open door to the
sea, and of course, the blue door.
All reminding me that I can write, i can be brave in the face of the unknown, and that I can
love.
Sweet dreams to you , Lillian, and thank you for your gift- so deep and sweet it has been to me-
