Stories Collected While Living in France

French la Vie

French Door Handles…who’s knocking on your door?

French door handles 1

French door handles 2

French door handles 3

French door handles 4
 
French door handles, or should I say French door knockers depicting Fatima's hand. They are one of my favorite things. The knockers are made of iron. The classic design of Fatima's hand has a ring on the right hand, a lacy cuff which sometimes has a bracelet, or bow as an adoring detail. In the palm of the knocker is an apple. There is a flat decorative disc that is attached to the door under the hand. When knocking the Fatima's hand taps on the disc. The sound is deafening. When Annie knocks on our door, it is like thunder running under our skin: Bang, Bang, Bang…. I wonder if my children miss that sound?

 

The knocker was created over a hundred years ago, and is still around at hardware stores. Though bien sur (of course) I prefer the old ones (but I can't talk about that….).

Today I will offer a nineteen century one as a gift to one of you. If you want to win one here are the rules:

Write in the comment section a story, or idea, or thought, or memory about something you would like to enter or re-enter into your life.

Tomorrow I will pick a few for you to choose a winner.

 

 

Comments

95 responses to “French Door Handles…who’s knocking on your door?”

  1. Marie-Noëlle

    I first thought of someONE and that would be my mother. I wish she could just walk in, smile to me and I would run to her and take her in my arms…
    But you wrote someTHING… So many things in my case… Right now, without searching, it would be studies… I would eagerly go back to university… just for learning more about linguistics, language, semiotics… I would love to see all those subjects re enter into my life…
    So, university !

    Reply
  2. Marie-Noëlle

    PS- When touring your brocantes, have you ever come to know why and when Fatma’s hand -with 2 thumbs (or representing 2 hands joined one behind the other) turned into this knocker’s hand- with an ordinary form … I have searched the net with various entries and cannot find any explanation…
    I’d love to know !!!

    Reply
  3. Marie-Noëlle

    PS2 – You can answer in March, I mean AFTER your brother’s birthday, of course !!!
    😉

    Reply
  4. Alan

    In 1975 I was twenty five years old. I could read a newspaper from a hundred yards away. I smoked cigarettes, and never coughed. The idea that it was unhealthy never crossed my mind. I could still run back then without my knees screaming in pain, and my feet could carry me dozens of miles without barking. I had sex, a lot. My dad was still alive, I had long hair, and driving a car was fun. The one thing I’d love to re-enter my life is youth. Of course the more I think about it, I made poor decisions back then. I quit my job and moved to California, where I spent every dime I had. I fell in love with the wrong people. I smoked too much pot. I drank too much. Oh, and I had sex, a lot.

    Reply
  5. Silke

    I just recently started writing letters again – real snail mail letters on pretty stationary with the fountain pen that was my mother’s, who passed away many years ago. In this day and age of computers and e-mail and skype (which I all love), writing letters brings me a joy and peace of mind that astounds me!
    Love those door knocker and remember them well from visiting France!
    Greetings from Savannah! Silke

    Reply
  6. Jenna

    LOL, as a veteran younger sibling, I can tell you we think it’s our job to troll you until you feel like hurting us. It’s our way of showing you we love you, and old habits die hard. This exchange between siblings reminds me of my childhood. I would like one day as a kid back. Sunburns, dirt, and laughter.

    Reply
  7. Susan

    Now that I am growing older, 66 tomorrow, I suppose what I miss the most and would love to relive for a short time would be standing over the crib of my baby daughters and watching them sleep and then holding that small body close and snuggling. I miss that beautiful baby smell.
    I am fascinated by the door knockers and would love to receive one. I have taken many photos of doors in France and even framed a collage of them. Susan

    Reply
  8. Merisi, Vienna

    A glorious day in April one year in Rome, early morning, on my way to school, walking through Villa Borghese, smelling and hearing spring all around me, and there it was, a large, prestine white magnolia blossom, fallen from the tree. I’d like to relive that moment, when I bent down to pick it up.

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  9. Merisi, Vienna

    “Pristine” !
    (I should have wished for that illusive thing they call “better spelling”?)

    Reply
  10. Rhonda P.

    Oh, it would be dancing away at Neo nightclub in Chicago. There was nothing like it. I had the time of my life and even at my age now, I can still dance away, if the music is right.
    Great music and dancing to it, takes you away every time.

    Reply
  11. Irina

    idea … I’ve started thinking of one, fun and cheerful.
    but, reading and looking at this door knocker all I could think off – my mom’s hands. her hands were beautiful, narrow with long fingers and oh… so soft and gentle. I wonder which ring she would choose to wear today, would she have her nails painted? I miss her so much. If I could – this is my wish – to feel my mom’s hands.

    Reply
  12. Jean

    I think often about returning to France. I spent sometime there in college and then traveled back a few times with my family and husband in my 20’s. Now, I have 3 children and a job and making it back to France seems so far away. My obsession with all things French, is how I found your blog and why I check it everyday. I love the photographs and your stories. I would like to return with a great camera and eat pastries every afternoon.

    Reply
  13. Laura

    I would like, no LOVE, a mama cat and two kittens to show up at my door. While they couldn’t use the knocker I’d know they were there! We married – 25 yrs ago – and within a month had two, then a third…after 19 yrs. they decided to chase mice in the Elysian Fields. We’ve been “catless” for 5 years. It’s time.
    I probably just booted myself out of the contest as I know you are not fond of that neighbor cat of yours…

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  14. Bev

    I think that what I would like to enter my life or re-enter for that matter, is God’s peace. I tend to be a worrier (especially about my children and the future) and I would love to have the calmness that is oh so fleeting, that “all things work together for good….

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  15. Lauren Slavin

    how about chivalry!!! lol
    I know everyone says, “chivalry is not dead” but I can’t help but notice how fewer doors are being held open. i love old movies; ones that are filmed in the 50s or ones set in the 1800’s…. those were the days! men stood when we entered a room, they took our coats on and off.
    when a man, pulls out the old school manners and chivalry… that’s the one i’ll marry. 😉

    Reply
  16. Star

    What a beautiful thing to bring back into your life, Silke. I’m sure your recipients are delighted by your efforts.

    Reply
  17. Vicki

    I would love to go back to my childhood when the all of the neighborhood kids played ball together and the best summer ever when we planned a circus (from a book)!! We handstiched costumes, painted the props, wrote the story and performed for our parents at the end of the summer. The creativity flowed from all of us!! What a fun summer!!!

    Reply
  18. Le petit cabinet de curiosites

    For me,today I have an easy answer , not a story not a lot of words . I miss my sleeping nights …lol

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  19. Walker

    The family’s huge 1937, funny smelling buick stops under the cedars in front of our home. I am so little I fall getting out of back seat. Mama helps me up. The steps to the double front doors seem mountainous. Mama holds the doors open for me. Inside she takes my little pink coat and matching hat. She hangs them on the halltree and sighing she says how wonderful to be home. This is my earliest memory. I was three. I have reenter that memory everyday of my seventy years.

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  20. Star

    I’d like to bring back swinging and singing into my life. When I was a child, we had a swing set in our yard (we lived on a small acreage). During the warmer months, I used to love to go out after supper and swing until the dews came as the sun set and it became too cool to be out. While I was swinging, I would sing…just about anything. There were songs that my mother taught me (songs that were popular when she was growing up) that we used to sing as we did the dishes after meals. There were folk songs. I even sang commercial jingles from the radio or television. It seemed like I was in my own little world out there, singing and swinging away, and I felt so relaxed and ready for bed when I came indoors at nightfall.
    When my father was progressing through the stages of Alzheimers, my mother shared with me that my father sometimes would sit on the steps between the kitchen and the back door and listen to my singing through the screen door. I’d never known until then.
    It would be nice to end my day with a little singing and swinging to ease away the busy-ness and challenges as we exchange day for night.

    Reply
  21. Ed in Willows

    When I was very young, I would spend much of my summers at a cattle ranch in Clark Valley. My grandfather was ranch foreman and lived in a cabin on the ranch with my grandmother. He wore cologne but I don’t know what kind it was. Occasionally, I will smell that cologne on someone and it takes me back to my summers on that ranch with Grandpa.

    Reply
  22. Cheryl ~ Casual Cottage Chic

    Painful as it may be, going back to sit by my mother’s side, holding her hand and brushing her cheek with my other hand as she struggled to hold onto life those last days in July…I would cherish those moments. Those are the days when I felt the greatest love for my mother as she slipped away for us.

    Reply
  23. Lilly

    Sadly, I wish hope would come back. My brother has a degenerative disease that has no hope of cure and robs him daily of his abilities. I wish we could hope that he would get better.

    Reply
  24. Cathy J.

    I love donuts and as a kid the Helm’s Bakery truck would drive through the neighborhood selling bread and of course donuts. We’d flag him down and then he would proceed to the back of the truck and pull out the donut tray. There it was, rows and rows of fresh donuts, I was in donut heaven. What could be better than the donuts being brought to you! Though I need a donut like a man needs a hole in his head, I still miss the Helm’s Bakery truck!
    p.s. As a side note, our babysitter Priscilla who was a very “healthy” woman would heat the donuts up in the oven (no microwaves in those days) for us. I blame Priscilla for my donut madness!

    Reply
  25. marlis

    I simply wish I could talk to Mom and my grandmother one more time. Just to feel their hands. That’s all. the rest is immaterial.
    I love those door knockers. They are objets d’art for sure.

    Reply
  26. annette richmond

    I would like to have back that feeling i had when I was a kid and summers seemed to last forever. The excitement of Christmas and wondering what was in those packages under the tree. I would like to be able to sit down and have a visit with my Daddy, he has been gone now for 15 years and I miss him still. The main thing I would like to return to my life is Love. I would like to have someone to love and he love me back. I miss having someone to travel the roads of life with.

    Reply
  27. jend’isère

    A French census taker knocked on my door, as I enter yet another decade of French statistics. Just a realted thought without entering your contest.

    Reply
  28. Penny

    This day, Old Man Winter came knocking at my door – and he dumped a foot and a half of snow there, crafty old man. It will take a while to just get out the door and the Blizzard of 2011 works extra hours to try to top the Great Chicago Snowstorm of 1967. Ah, to be a teenager again, in ’67, looking forward to the future. Naw. I’ll just wish to stay as I am for a little while longer.

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  29. martina

    Ice cream trucks-they are so scarce these days.
    The red 24 drawer small box that a friend of the family would give me at Advent. She would buy the box in Chinatown and put a treasure in each drawer for me to open like an Advent calendar. I remember the box was very red and the delight in opening a drawer each day and finding a charm.

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  30. Tammy Hensley

    I would most want a former supervisor to be a part of my life once again. Working so closely together for so many years, we developed a great friendship but as soon as I took a new job and moved a couple of hours away, our friendship died. She had always said that she was an out of sight, out of mind person when it came to friendships but I had truly hoped that all we had gone through together would somehow overcome that.

    Reply
  31. Marilyn

    An apple in her hand, I hadn’t noticed. I am sure the apple is a gift of life to the person that gazes into her eyes and accepts her love into their heart.

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  32. Janell West

    As I make my way to the confessional, I wonder how it should be this thing that I’ve come to long for most in the world. Surely it should not be so. But upon taking a deep breath, I realize my life can’t be that different from others, that my life can’t be the only one chock full of little ironies like this:
    I long so much to re-enter the doors of a church that makes me feel at home — a place that loves me for who I already am but who will nurture me toward becoming my best and true self — the person the world needs me to be and waits for me to become. I want to once again be lost in worship and find missing parts of my soul. I want to be missed when I’m not sitting in the pews — to have friends wonder about me enough to call and let me know they are thinking about me. And after morning worship, I wish to walk out those same church doors with fresh hope that all will be well, and that truly, all things are possible with God.
    I realize this is a strange matter for a spiritual director to confess — a contemplative who prays daily and finds evidence of God in everyday life. But as I sat before a window yesterday morning, watching a beautiful snowstorm fall down from heaven, I realized that no matter how unique and beautiful a single snowflake was, that it would be lost and unnoticed without the company of others to help define its existence.
    And so this smallish snowflake of a spiritual director will once again endeavor to find her church home — and I’m thinking perhaps, I’ll begin by returning to my ancestral roots, by stepping into the doors of the local Greek Orthodox Church. And pray I melt at their warmth and welcome.

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  33. Amy Kortuem

    Warmth. I want warmth back in my life. It’s -15 Fahrenheit here in Minnesota. And windy. And so cold.
    I bought an old-looking new Fatima’s hand door knocker when I was in France in September. I put it on the door to my office at home. I love how it looks, and I love remembering all those old, old doors I passed and photographed while wandering the village streets during my visit.

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  34. Brother Mathew

    I like Alan’s comment.

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  35. Deb L.

    Just recently I have been blessed with the gift of my childhood best friend re-entering my life. Life and circumstance separated us when we were 13 years old and we lost contact for 45 years. I just had the amazing opportunity of moving into the house I grew up in (both of my parents passed away), did a bit of detective work (thank God for the internet!)and discovered she still lived in our hometown. We have since been inseparable and have picked up where we left off those 45 years ago. It has been a wonderful thing, coming to know her as a grown woman. Life does, indeed, go full cirle. xo Deb

    Reply
  36. Deb in IN

    This triggered an old memory and prompts an answer that surprises even me. I would like to walk into a Brocante today and find a metal wind up toy of Dino (from the Flintstones) of my youth.I was given the toy the day my mom entered the hospital for an extended stay. I found such comfort lying on the floor winding it up and watching it go in circles over and over and over. The loud mechanical noise drowning out the medical terms I couldn’t understand and the words I didn’t want to hear.In the car and in my bed I still wound it, holding it with wheels spinning freely so that sound would keep my focus–be my barrier. I miss the ability to self-sufficiently and single-mindedly center on something that blocks the confusion and turmoil of life’s difficulties.In writing this now I guess I realize what I miss isn’t the toy as much as the simplicity of childhood.But, I’d still take the toy as tribute to that time.

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  37. Melissa

    I would like the loosening of the constraints of “colouring in within the lines”. By that I really mean I would like to paint like I did when I was a child. I used to have a box of pastel crayons and I used to love to paint sunsets and smudge the colours with my fingers, letting the joy of it seep up my arms.
    One might wonder “why don’t you get a box of those crayons and do it again?” It’s not simply the physical aspect of the doing it, it’s that inner creative muse that I would like to visit me again.
    Thank you for asking the question. I loved reading all the answers. I would like to pose the question on my blog sometime if you don’t mind.

    Reply
  38. Chris Kerr

    Dearest Corey~How fun your ideas are!
    I would like the feeling of endless time. When I was a child, we grew up a bit isolated in the high desert north of Los Angeles. In the summertime, we didn’t have any organized activities, and had enough land to roam and play. So we made clubhouses and forts and read mountains of library books about magic and adventure. I drew countless pictures of fancy ladies in fashionable dresses. The days droned on and seemed to go forever, in a lazy sunny sort of way. Our uniform was shorts and t-shirts and bare feet that developed the most amazing callouses on their soles. And I dreamed the most amazing futures full of love, color and brightness.
    How fun to step back there for a minute! Thank you Corey~

    Reply
  39. Lorelei

    Oh, Corey, I would love to win this giveaway. My hubby and I decided to retire and move back to my hometown in another state. We heard today that the house we want is going to be ours. I’ve been wanting to go “home” for 25 years. It’s a new chapter for us. I’m going to do more art and papercrafting and be with my sisters and brother and their children. Yes, yes, yes, you can go home again.

    Reply
  40. Shelley@thiswhiteshed.blogspot.com

    My mother’s blue and black coat with it’s fur collar and long matching blue and black scarf, also trimmed with black fur. The Chanel smell of her as she wrapped her arms around me and my brother at the end of a workday….snow often melting off of the collar and onto our faces. I’d press my face into that fur collar for as long as possible feeling safe and alone in my mom’s warmth.

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  41. Tongue in Cheek

    Melissa,
    I do not mind at all!
    C

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  42. Tongue in Cheek

    Hey Brother Mathew,
    Do tell what part? 🙂
    c

    Reply
  43. Chris Wittmann

    I would want just one warm moment with my dad again, like the trips we took on the Cape May Lewes ferry over to Rehobeth Beach in Delaware. They were business trips but dad always made it fun with a wonderful seafood lunch on the boardwalk and time to spend on the beach while he visited with his customers. If I could only give him one more hug and tell him how much I love and miss him…

    Reply
  44. Tongue in Cheek

    That is so funny they knocked on our door too. I thought, “Has it been ten years!”
    We are counted for, you and me, here is to another ten years.

    Reply
  45. karen

    I would walk the mile fence rows that cornered the bending boffalo grass where i was a gatherer of hedge apples and berries and twigs and blossoms for our playhouses-where the whole prairie was my garden-and where my mother coaxed beans and zinnias from barrenness-and the lilacs always bloomed in May for her birthday…bouquets of gratitude and wonder… thanks Corey!

    Reply
  46. Maryann

    When I was a little girl, my family moved from the city to a more suburban area. One day I discovered a secret little garden with an old concrete fishpond. It had water lilies and goldfish and was so quiet and overgrown. It became my private place during my childhood.
    Even though I live in a downtown city studio, I would love to have a little garden with a concrete fish pond back into my life…

    Reply
  47. mimi

    The thing I miss the most is what I will call the “mothering years”. The days when you were the most important person in your child’s life. To walk into a darkened bedroom and see your sleeping child. To kiss away a wound and make it all better. To witness everything new and for the first time through their eyes.
    I wish I had understood how fleeting those precious days would be. A mother’s love is so pure and beautiful, and a child’s innocence is love in awesome simplicity.

    Reply
  48. Fran Ginn

    Corey, thank you for bringing all these wonderful people together. I seldom comment, but read everyday. Today’s comments are especially heartfelt….and needed by me today. I have a Sunday “Peanuts” cartoon framed in my studio. Charlie Brown asks Peppermint Patti “What does it mean to be grown-up?” She replies “Remember when you went somewhere in the car and you were coming home at night and your mom and dad were in the front seat and you were sleeping in the backseat and you felt all warm and comfortable and they were taking care of everything?” Charlie replies “Yes”. Patti says “Grown-up means you never get to sleep in the backseat again.” Charlie Brown replies (seeming a bit panic-stricken), “Hold my hand.”
    As a full-fledged “grown-up”, I wish sometimes that I could, just for a few minutes, sleep in the back seat again.

    Reply
  49. Jeannie

    I want to travel back to sitting around Gram’s dining room table. Great Gram is there and we are baking bread. I am learning how to pinch the bottoms of the rolls so they look like plump cheeks from above. I can smell Evening in Paris that Gram wore, her voice calmly telling where to put my fingers. GG smell of rosewater and tells us stories of her years working in a castle in England. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.

    Reply
  50. Sara

    I would like to be an art student again as this older, wiser, more confident and experienced version of myself.

    Reply
  51. Franca Bollo

    Oh … how you taunt me with those knockers, you hussy.
    I would love, more than anything, to have Frank enter the house through the cat door one more time. To hear it knock against its frame after he passed through. To listen to the soft thudding as he ran down the stairs to my studio. To feel him jumping behind me, onto my task chair, and slowly push me to the edge so he could stretch out. Eventually, I’d give up the battle, get up and grab another chair for myself while he slept.

    Reply
  52. Jeanne

    I used to sing out loud just because until one day in the 4th grade I overheard some other kids taking about my singing and they weren’t very flattering. It broke my heart and my spirit for awhile. I continued to sing in groups, but I still am self-conscious even singing in the shower. I would love to feel the freedom that I felt as a child before that day.

    Reply
  53. auntie bliss

    Ooo the pressure is on…you have a hard job here Corey…these are all amazing.
    To enter my life:
    a full time job…taste-testing macarons worldwide! I’ll need a travel partner…a female, who knows something about Europe and likes to take photos. 🙂

    Reply
  54. Lucy

    I would go back to the house in the country, windows open as night fell on the freshly planted fields, and be that little blonde headed girl crawling down to sleep between my grandparents who have been gone for so long now. I have never ever felt so loved and safe as then. The world was a wondeful place .

    Reply
  55. Jacqueline

    My soul aches for just one more moment with Daddy. One January night two years ago I got a call saying my father was in the hospital in Dublin. I booked the next flight but I couldn’t get from California to Ireland fast enough. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye and whisper one last time, “I Love You Daddy”. I was left with a brief phone call from a step mother on the other side of the Atlantic saying he was gone and there was no need for me to get on the plane. That was it. My father was gone. No need to come to Ireland. I know he knew how much I adored him but oh, how I wish I could tell him just once more. I miss the smell of him, the soft scratchy feel of his cashmere sweater against my cheek when he hugged me. I miss his raspy laugh, and his bright blue eyes. I even miss his incessant worrying about politics and the financial state of the world. I miss his Sunday phone calls over the sometimes crackly international phone lines. Most of all I miss his unwavering belief in me. If I could have one wish it would be for one more hug, one more kiss, one more laugh, one more smile and one more chance to look into those bright blue eyes and say, “I love you Daddy.”

    Reply
  56. Barbara (Australia)

    I would love to lay my head on my pillow at night and sleep that blissful, sound and peaceful sleep of my childhood.
    The pain of grief, the anxiety of concerns and the damn pain of ageing bones be gone!

    Reply
  57. Laurie SF

    I re-enter my Grandmother’s farm by painting it. The year following her death I feverishly painted what I remembered most. Cool blues of winter and spring pulled tight across the horizon sky. Summer and fall, when the blue sky languishes in warm golden hues. Swimming in the canal and seeing her silhouette on the bank, calling out my name. Layering glazes of paint to form water in a see through vase. How do you capture the sweet smell of lilacs? At her kitchen table, she sits. Her cup casts a shadow. Wisps of hair and loose finger wave curls. Hay bale wire in her sweater pocket. Outside, wild fruit from her orchard, handpicked not from a row, but a scattering of trees. An extention of her hand, she slices the fruit, the first slice for me and second for her. Delicate and sweet, juice drips from my chin, as I run for another.

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  58. Laurie SF

    Hilarious. You get my vote!

    Reply
  59. Laurie SF

    A request from the postman.
    My doorbell is chimeless. He must shout from the courtyard below, as I live on the fourth floor. The door knocker would come in handy.

    Reply
  60. Rebecca from the pacific northwest

    I would like to be able to ask my parents oh so many questions about their childhood, young adulthood, and ancestors that I was always too hurried, too disinterested, or too in a snit at them when they were alive. So many questions arise that I wonder about now.

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  61. Leslie

    Sitting on the floor of my grandma’s bedroom with my brother sharing a bootle of pop watching The Lawrence Welk Show on Saturday nights. Alas,my grandma, brother and Mr. Welk are deceased.

    Reply
  62. Susan

    I would without a doubt re-enter May 7, 1974, one week before my sister, Linda passed. She had waited 20 of her 28 years, a lifetime, for a kidney transplant. When that day finally arrived, she was the happiest I had remembered, smiles from ear to ear. I remember her excitement- talking non-stop as she rushed our mom to get them ready; her new kidney awaited. I remember this day vividly, always. At 13 I didn’t understand. I was selfish, unworthy to be her sister. So, without a doubt I would re-enter to this week and shower my sister with friendship, love, and warmth. I would try and wash her memories of the lifetime of illness. I would be there in her time of need. What I didn’t tell her then, I say out loud today. Linda, I love you. You are the kindest and bravest person I will ever know.
    Corey, your gift to me is this question today. This is something very personal that I have kept locked away. Why do I share this? Why on a blog posting? Am I overstepping boundaries? I don’t know. It seems unreal and I’m surprised.

    Reply
  63. Jacqueline

    Alan, You are a HOOT! I loved your response.

    Reply
  64. Linda P.

    I’m not writing to enter the contest as so many others have earned it already with their posts. I’m writing to thank you. Reading the entries that your query prompted, I’ve already been gifted with many memories and smiles, and some sadnesses, too. I don’t need more than what your respondents have written. I have what I need entering my front door already: grandchildren who run up to that door with smiling, open faces, shouting, “Grammie, Grammie!” Those who have written such eloquent posts have assured me of my constant place in their hearts into the future, just as my grandmother is still in mine. What more could I need?

    Reply
  65. Ariane

    I would like to go back to the end of high school and make the decision to go to art school. I was talked out of it back then by my father who thought I would never be able to make a living out of it. Art is something I’ve rediscovered in the past 8 years or so. I’ve taken some classes, but still wonder what if I had gone to art school.

    Reply
  66. Denise Solsrud

    well, here’s what i think. i would love to have a knocker because i don’t have either a knocker nor a door bell and often don’t hear when someone is knocking on the outside door. but, to the real fun, if only it was possible and it is a pleasant thought, i would love to go back in time to my childhood home,when things were pretty simple. even if for one hour,cuz then my dad, brother and cousin and plenty of aunts and uncles would still be alive and we would just hug n’ hug. nostalgic is my middle name and i often miss them. Bestest,Denise

    Reply
  67. Mahala

    I often wonder how it would feel to have that first hug, first, smile, that first kiss all over again. That feeling of ones whole being floating up into the heavens while a warmth takes over your mind and that sweet moment after much longing to be held and given something so loving and soft right smack dab on the mouth! I can still see the moonlight behind him, hear the waves crashing on the rocks of the jetty…the dings of the boats in the harbor moving with the waves and the smell of the ocean turning to not only smelling, but feeling the scent of his cologne..
    Oh woo…I was there again…thanks Corey, I needed that.

    Reply
  68. Mardog

    Reading your blog late today. Touched by peoples thoughts and hearts.
    Thanks Corey.

    Reply
  69. violetcadburry

    I would love to enter a new adventure of traveling half way around the world to knock on my best friend’s door and surprise her after 3 years apart. To hug her and hold her and then sneak out back and smoke French cigarettes and drink Australian wine, while we chat about everything, nothing and everyone and just ourselves, while the sun sets over the beach in Fiji!

    Reply
  70. momof5

    I’ve loved all of these stories.
    If I could take back one moment in my life it would truly be entering the door of my house on a sunny summer day in June when I was nine. I opened the door to find my mother crying. I immediatly knew why and bolted back out the door. She caught me just outside and hung onto me gently as I cried NOooooo. I knew without her saying a word that my father had died. When I look back on that time I forever think of that as the day my childhood ended. When you realize that the adults in your life can not protect you from the pain that comes with living. Two days before I saw my father’s emaciated body with a towel wrapped around his waist as he rummaged in the hall closet for some shampoo. I said to him with the honesty of childhood…”you’re going to die aren’t you?” Taken aback he looked at me for a moment and said, “no nothing’s going to happen to me.” I so wanted to believe him. Two days later he died of leukemia at the age of 41.

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  71. Karina

    One moment that I will like to live again is the day I came to West New York, NJ to visit my father’s family. I stayed 2 months at my auntie’s house, played with my cousings, saw snow for the first time in my life, attended an American Catholic school and made new friends. Seeing a different country and experiencing a different culture was amazing and to me when I was 7 years old. It is also the reason that I married an American man and now living in Pittsburgh, PA. God bless America

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  72. robin williams

    My father was the wisest man I have ever known so when he comes to me in my dreams, I take it to heart and listen carefully. In one particular dream, he was with my son and me at the end of a football game. We were separated by the crowd, and he had to reach across the heads of other people to give me something. It was $500.00. He told me to give it to my son who was even further away from us. I awoke and later called my son (in college)and asked if he believed in the power of dreams because a lot was riding on his answer. He answered correctly. I told him to expect a surprise in the mail soon!
    It is a blessing and a comfort to know you never lose contact with loved ones.

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  73. Nora Barnacle

    Dear Corey,
    There’s a man living in Seattle Washington, whom I will probably never see again. Sadly, I’m in college in Virginia… so not exactly walking distance. Or visiting distance.
    The first time I saw him tottering down the walk at my boarding school he was clutching his customary grey umbrella, with those huge hipster glasses I knew I wanted to get to know him. At first I didn’t think he was a teacher he looked so young. (he was) We got to know each other well – he was my English teacher the next year, and his classes became the one place I’d rather be.
    We had become something like friends. He accused me of being “capricious” and “aloof”; I accused him of having a “five head” and made gagging noises when he tried to talk to me about philosophy. He made me a mix tape of accordion music, I made excuses to stop by the dorm he was on duty in at night, where I spun myself around in an office chair and pretended not to listen.
    But the year ended. He walked me back to my dorm with that old grey umbrella (it was raining) I asked him if I could call him Jason. He told me I could call him whatever I wanted. He hugged me a little to long, but I let him. And so I went to college, he got another teaching post in Seattle…. and I haven’t seen him since.

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  74. suesue

    I’m like so many of the other commenters. I’d like the freedom of childhood back. I know I can’t go back in time, but those days of thinking nothing was beyond me, the hopefulness of youth and not realizing that often with love, comes pain. Alas, it’s like all the best movies, you laugh and you cry. (But I still wouldn’t give up what I have now for it.)

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  75. Franca Bollo

    You know, I’m trying to get your wedding gift out of this. Three years in the works, I know.

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  76. Franca Bollo

    It’s looking like it may turn out to be a 64-pack of crayons.

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  77. Debbie

    spending the last night with my Mother before she was to go to hospital to have major surgery. She lived 500km from me, so she asked me if I would drive her to the hospital and stay with her the night before as she lived on her own. That night about 1.00am I awoke to find her sitting on the end of my bed, she started talking about when she was young and about stories I hadn’t heard. I was wishing her back to bed, but I sat and listened. She eventually went back to bed and in the morning on the way into the hospital, she asked if I would give her a copy of the CD of my Eva Cassidy CD she said she sanging like a bird, she loved it. She died post surgery with the Eva Cassidy CD playing. I want her back…………..

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  78. Elaine L.

    This is hard as there are so many moments in my life I would love to relive. What first came into my mind was the day we adopted our daughter. We had been married 12 years. The day we brought her home, she was 3 1/2 months old and came wearing a little blue dress and had two bottles. Seriously.
    I had not gotten any clothes, since I didn’t know how big she would be. And, I assumed the foster parent would have provided a few things. We got home and I ran to the store to buy baby formula and a sleeper for her to sleep in. It had been a long and somewhat stressful day, since we had met her birth mother before we received Lauren into our arms. There was the fear in me that she would some how take one look at us and change her mind. I felt so close, but so far away.
    After we met her we broke for lunch. After lunch her mother was gone and the social worker brought in the fattest baby I had ever seen. In nervousness my husband and I both starting laughing. Good thing I hadn’t bought any clothes.
    But, here is the memory I would love to relive. Lauren slept right through the night and the next morning my husband and I opened our eyes at the same moment and leaped out of bed and ran to the crib. There was a baby in the house and we could hardly believe it! The feeling was so magical.
    I have to say I took to motherhood like a fish takes to water. It was the best!
    ~elaine~

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  79. pam

    Dear Corey,
    I wish love would enter my life again. I was married 21 years and now have been alone for 11 years. All these years there has been no one. I miss having a someone. I am not so good at being alone. It seems we are meant to have a special companion to complete us. I am open to allowing love to come into my life. I wonder; will this be the year for love to find me?

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  80. andrea

    Reading the comments brings tears to my eyes…
    Well, I’d have to say I’d like for my father to re-enter my life. Meeting him for the first time at the age of 24, seeing what he looked like for the first time, hearing his voice for the first time. Him dying a year after us meeting. I’d like to see him now that I’m 46, I’d look into his eyes a bit longer and breathe in the moment a little longer as well. When you’ve dreamt of meeting your father your whole life, and then it finally happens, it’s all so surreal that you don’t manage to take in everything you should. And then he’s gone.

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  81. Kiki

    Gosh Corey; here I sit – totally exhausted by all that love poured out, the pain, the boundless joy, the stress, the lost moments, the forever gone times, the memories…. I am crying and smiling – at the same time – and I cannot stop thinking how THANKFUL I am. I have the gift to really appreciate each moment of my good life and I also have the gift of forgetting all the hurt, pain, injustes of my former life.
    I do not have to wish back any of those many priceless experiences because they still very much live in me. But I will address my long ago best girlfriend who fell out of love with me over a probably trivial thing (I never even knew what set her off me…. she just said I changed). I never stopped loving her and I suffered a long time over this first serious refusal of MY love. I take thus this opportunity to create an open space to re-establish a bit more than just a Christmas card…
    Thank You Corey, for opening up so many ‘wells’ that have been closed, hemmed up and ‘buried’… thank you for achieving reaching out to so many readers – and thank you for making me cry and smile AGAIN, and as usual, at the same time!
    I do not need a hand-knocker but I could very well do with one; I had a beautiful one both at the door of my English house and my Swiss House; I haven’t got one now – BUT I think I wouldn’t merit one. There are sooooo many to choose from, I wouldn’t want to be YOU to have to make a choice today!
    God bless you my friend – It was a wonderful day I found your blog!!!
    And the stories of your children are very touching too…. what a blessing it is to live those calls and hear those words!
    (and finally, sorry for rambling on like that… taking up so much space!)
    I wouldn’t want to be you to have to choose though – I am deeply touched by all those testimonials and I love you for opening up those (some of them) long closed and shut-up ‘grounds’ of thoughts
    I could very well do with a lovely hand-knocker but I

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  82. Patricia

    if i could step through the door and
    relive a time it would be when i was
    young when i was convinced that what
    i dreamed was achievable, i remeber
    vivedly dreaming that if i swung high
    enough on the swing that i would be
    able to leap in the air and fly into
    the blue blue australian sky. i would love to go back to that time when i was so
    innocent and belieived that the
    world was like snow white and we
    all lived happily ever after

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  83. Kiki

    sorry; I had a problem with my computer…. thought I had lost the text and re-did a bit – can this be mended or not?!
    And another hitch with my reply to Silke; but that was on a positive note – clicked on reply, didn’t get it – clicked again and went to her blog… lovely experience!

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  84. Kiki

    aaah, NOW it works!
    Silke; I seriously thought I was the only living soul still writing real letters and cards, and making my own cards (with photos I sign with my name ‘Vol-au-Vent’ – on Flickr.com) and I am SO pleased to find another like-minded friend! I too write – if I can – with a purple-ink filled fountain pen but for many shorter notes I use felt pens (again, if possible in purple, but that’s no longer possible since living in France; can’t find them)…. the joy getting a hand written document, note, card, on a beautiful paper…. it has to be known to be appreciated! Many thanks for your comment and greetings from France, some 30km from Paris
    Kiki

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  85. Silke

    Dear Kiki, I am so glad you found my blog! I tried to find an e-mail for you to write back, but couldn’t. Mine is powers-studio.silke@comcast.net, if you want to get in touch!
    I think there are many of us again who are reviving the art of letter writing. Isn’t it wonderful? Plus, the feeling of getting letters in the mail can’t be beat!!
    Warmly, Silke

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  86. Silke

    Thank you, Star! It is incredibly rewarding for all, I think. And it helps to slow me down… 🙂 Silke

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  87. Evelyn Jackson

    Oh Jeanne…your story brought back memories of a very similar incident…only it was at Girl Scout camp and I was singing my little heart out until I heard two nasty little girls talking about me…”she thinks she can sing…she’s awful” Believe it or not, I regained my confidence as an adult,sang in the church choir and even did a solo at one of our concerts. So sing out!!

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  88. Evelyn Jackson

    Alan…you make me laugh! Those were the days, eh? All that pot, all that sex, all that freedom to be. Ah, the memories of an ex-hippie. Right on, man. Peace!

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  89. Debbie – Admin for http://www.france-travel-info.com

    Corey
    Your blogs gives us all so much – everyday your blog lifts my spirits and touches my heart in some new way. As I have said before, your blog is something I open and read first thing upon arriving at work. I am not seeking to win the knocker but am sending you my picture of Fatima’s hand knocker via your email link – giving back in tiny measure what you give to everyone else.

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  90. Marie-Noëlle

    One sheep, 2 sheep, 3 sheep …
    Do American people count sheep when they are sleepless, just as the French do…?

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  91. Suzanne

    Ohh I love those door knockers!
    I am soon re-entering my life. I’m 44 but have chronic illness and am taking early disability retirement the end of this month. I tried working part time earlier in the Fall but it didn’t help much so I’ve decided to leave my job of 17 years. I didn’t think I would get any salary at all but found out I qualify for disability retirement and am thrilled! Maybe I’ll have a little money still available to shop your online brocante!
    I have been pushing myself for the last couple of years to keep up with my very busy career – at the expense of my husband and two children. I’ve never had the energy or ability without considerable pain to go to their schools for parties or attend an evening performance at school, but I know that when I’m not working and rest frequently, I can plan to attend these types of things again. My daughter turns 8 in April and she’s already excited that I will be bringing cupcakes to her class on her birthday.
    So I’m re-entering my life after February 28th, my last day at work! Yipee!!

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  92. Danna

    Oh my gosh…..I have not stopped crying. Thank you to each and every one of you for sharing these beautiful memories!!! We are snowed-in in Dallas for the third day in a row. (I’m 52 and don’t ever remember this happening.) So my two boys are home from school and after reading these, I am going to march downstairs to hug and tickle and kiss all over them. They are 14 and 15 and will most likely try to shoo me away but I don’t care! Thank you, Corey…for your always entertaining and inspiring blog. You are like our Franco-American Oprah!!!

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  93. Brenda

    Hi, Corey, I bet your kids do miss that sound! I love those, I have seen only a few!
    I,in the past, have been a lover of primitive items. They are used and loved and practical and scream their own language! I abandoned them because I thought I was just using them for decor during the raising of two sons, and many others that seemed to find our home a resting place, because they were tough and if they got another scratch it wasn’t noticed! Later I sold them off and began to acquire a more traditional use of items, then eclectic, and now the French influence is predominant, along with an old New Orleans feel. I would love the older primitives again, and also have more people who would come and sit, wonder and get their heads straight, lingering because they felt that homey, comfortable feeling with friends and loved ones! Actually this is in the making, as I never bring home anything now unless it “Yanks My Gizzard” as I say! My two sons are grown and have their own lives, not at home as often. I’m getting ready for the next generation and opening my doors to others who need to sit comfortably, prop their feet, and sit cross-legged on cushy rugs, speaking of their plans and dreams and spilling their hearts!

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  94. Chris T

    Corey,
    Many years ago I met a fellow with a house in Provence. He and I had met at a jazz festival because we both played trumpet (me professionally, he for fun) and also liked the same type of old jazz music. Through him I had my first real introduction to Haute Provence, and the hand of Fatima door knockers.
    A couple of years ago, when I moved into my own home in Portland, I longed to find one of those door knockers for my front door. Eh, voila, entre ebay.fr. A few weeks later a lovely, vintage knocker arrived on my doorstep, and a few days later, appeared on my door.
    Most people don’t notice it, and the few that do seem to be intimidated by it. Once the Jehovah’s Witnesses came to the door and they wouldn’t touch it, either, and I wondered if it spooked them!
    Cheers,
    Chris

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  95. Carolyn

    Corey,
    Happy birthday! You make me smile, you touch my heart. My wish for you is the same that you give me. 🙂

    Reply

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