I was closing the curtains when darkness began to fill the sky in Lucy’s room, a resident in the care home where I worked. When she glanced up, she said, “I wonder how many times I have seen curtains open and close in my lifetime.” I paused and asked her to elaborate. Lucy beckoned me to sit at the foot of her bed and began to tell the first time she recalled her curtains opening as a small child in her nursery.
Lucy hailed from a prosperous family nestled in the picturesque Yorkshire countryside of England. Her father, a distinguished magnate in the railway industry, had amassed a substantial fortune that afforded the family an extravagant lifestyle filled with comforts and luxuries. This wealth not only pampered Lucy and her sister in privilege but also bestowed upon them a status that turned them into prominent figures within their community.
Their upbringing was marked by an unwavering sense of security, due to the presence of a devoted nanny who was more than just a caregiver; she was a cherished part of the family. With a warm smile and a gentle touch, she catered to their every whim and need, orchestrating days brimming with imaginative play and countless adventures. Whether it was crafting elaborate games in the expansive gardens or reading enchanting stories by the fireplace, her attentive care nurtured their curiosity and creativity.
Meanwhile, her mother stood as a pillar of the community, a respected matriarch whose influence extended far beyond the confines of their cosy home. Her compassion and tireless efforts to uplift those around her were evident in every interaction. From organising local charity events to lending a listening ear to neighbours in need, she embodied the spirit of generosity and empathy, leaving a lasting impact on the neighbourhood they proudly called home.
Lucy vividly recalled the splendid red and gold curtains of her nursery; their vibrant colours provided a tapestry of warmth and cheer. When drawn open, they welcomed the golden rays of the sun, which filled the room and created shimmering patterns that danced across the walls like whimsical fairies flitting through the air. It was a time filled with laughter and joy, a blissful childhood that seemed to know no end.
However, that innocence was short-lived with the outbreak of war in 1939. At just five years old, Lucy still felt the memory as she watched the radiant curtains replaced by heavy, sombre blackout drapes, their dull fabric casting a shadow of melancholy over the once-bright nursery, transforming it into a dull reflection of the turbulent times outside.
Throughout the years, Lucy had transformed countless houses into warm and inviting homes. When she married Thomas in 1953, she knew she had found a remarkable husband; he was a decorated Air Force pilot, a chance encounter that blossomed in a quaint tea shop nestled in London. One of her greatest delights was selecting exquisite curtains, skilfully designed to embellish the grand bay windows of their charming home in Surrey.
With a warm sense of nostalgia, Lucy vividly recalls the moment when the curtains in her bedroom were opened wide on the morning of her wedding day. A cascade of golden sunlight flooded the room, illuminating her radiant white dress, which seemed to shimmer as if adorned with countless diamonds. The sequins sparkled brilliantly, casting playful reflections that danced along the walls, turning the space into a magical haven. With the gentle warmth of the sun came an overwhelming sense of hope, promising a future filled with love, joy, and thrilling adventures just waiting to unfold.
Those curtains, with their delicate patterns and rich fabrics, opened and closed to witness the tapestry of life unfolding within. Each graceful sweep revealed both euphoric celebrations and poignant farewell events that were often unforeseen. Each flutter of the fabric in the breeze, joyous moments such as the birth of her three beloved children, were intertwined with the sorrowful shadows of her mother and father passing away.
In her imagination, the curtains became the mystical fortune-tellers of her life, whispering promises of the joys and tribulations that lay just beyond their embrace.
The couple were deeply passionate about the theatre, finding joy in the electric atmosphere that filled the air during the final curtain call. They revelled in the thrilling moment when the performers, standing proudly on stage, soaked in the warm waves of applause and heartfelt admiration from the enraptured audience. Each clap and cheer seemed to resonate with their excitement, creating an unforgettable symphony of appreciation that lingered long after the lights dimmed. Those heavy, draped velvet curtains unveiled an array of adventures each time they opened and closed.
Lucy added that when someone passed away, a sign of respect was to draw the curtains and cover the mirrors. In a tradition that began in her youth, she continues to uphold the symbolic significance of life’s final chapter.
Lucy held a profound conviction that the simple act of opening and closing curtains revealed the windows of the soul, embodying the intricate mysteries of life. When drawn wide open, curtains usher in a cascade of light, infusing the room with vibrant energy and unlocking a realm of possibilities. Conversely, the gentle pull of the curtains to a close envelops the space in warmth, offering a sanctuary of security and privacy, protection from the outside world and providing a quiet retreat from the day’s events.
As she sighed softly, her voice draped in melancholy, she expressed her longing for many more days ahead when curtains would gracefully open and close just for her. Her eyes shimmered with a mixture of longing and hope. I wrapped her in a warm embrace, feeling the weight of her yearning, and echoed her sentiments with a gentle sincerity, as if to acknowledge the beauty of her dreams.
A quote by Mehmet Murat:
“Open the curtains of your mind! If there is light outside, it will come in; if there is light inside, it will go out! Keep the curtains open!”
What a beautiful story, something I’d never thought of until reading this. I’ll think about Lucy’s story now when I draw my curtains and I’ll smile.