a door to another world

My house has a new front door.
But let me explain.

My parents house got robbed a few months ago. Actually, 'robbed' is a bit too strong a word, cos nothing was taken. Someone got in through the front door, realised my mum was driving down the driveway, and made a speedy exit out the back. So my use of the verb 'to rob' is kind of misleading in this instance. Let's say they got 'broken into'. But I digress.

In response to this 'break in', my parents replaced all the locks. But it turns out that my ancient front door, while having a very sturdy lock, was not very sturdy itself and could easily be busted through. So they had to replace the whole door. When I heard about this on the phone, I was pretty disappointed. The key to our old front door was awesome - a big, gold, old fashioned looking thing. Like a key in a picture from a children's storybook. And I wasn't that pleased about having to give it up.

Despite the forewarning, I got a shock when I came home for the first time after that. It just didn't feel quite the same, entering my house through a different door. And it got me thinking about the symbolic nature of doors. They symbolise security ["behind locked doors"], opportunity ["one door closes, another one opens"], and refuge ["wolves at the door"]. They designate the spaces in our lives, and they allow us to move between them. And they're a good place to hang out during an earthquake, apparently.

I'm getting used to the new front door. I've stopped lifting my foot a little too high when I step over the threshold. The smell of varnish is slowly fading from the wood (I still notice it, though). But I haven't taken the old key off my key ring. To be honest, I'm not sure when I will. Is it "the key to my childhood", perhaps? I think that's taking the symbolism a little too far. Mostly, I just like the way it looks.