| Porch Lights Have A Deeper Meaning written by Lane Hudson |
| I love porch lights. Not obnoxious flood lights. Not mechanical automatic yardlights. And not those fancy fixtures adorning doors on big houses in big subdivisions. I love the simple lights, sometimes with just a pull chain; the kind found in the houses and on the porches of my childhood in Five Points. Growing up in a small neighborhood, family business was everyone's business. I learned early that porch lights did more than delay the night. Porch lights also chronicled family quarrels and celebrations; when they shone, especially late into the evening, there was a deeper meaning. Families, with their porch lights, had their own Morse Code, a language written in timing and family dynamics. Some families seemed to use their porch lights more than others and for reasons that required my mother and father to talk in whispers. A porch light shining late into the night could say what words could not. Maybe an apology to an angry wife or jealous husband who earlier stormed out of the house, slamming the front screen door. A porch light could also be a white flag, a signal for peace and truce to a teenage son pushing the boundaries of manhood, growing up too fast; or a daughter, declaring "never to come home again." Porch lights could also sing songs into the night of reunions, both joyous and tragic. A light meant coffee and supper kept warm for brothers, sisters, and cousins arriving from some faraway place for Christmas, Thanksgiving, or a simple summer visit. Or the porch light could be the candle in the window, guiding out of town family home, for the last rites of a loved one. And as happens with growing older, truth and meaning change like the shadows of evening when the porch light is turned on. So it was for me, the porch light gained a deeper meaning after I became one of those long distance family members. As the years passed, and the miles permanent, mom started ending our telephone conversations with, "The porch light is always on for you. You don't even have to let me know you're coming." After mom died, we sold her house in Five Points. I'm sure her porch light still shines, but now it beckons someone else home. |
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