Home.
It takes on many different meanings and sights. Every home is different; in structure and in inhabitants. Each home provides something good or bad that people recognize and hold on to for most of their lives. My home has always changed growing up. I am used to moving homes, schools, and people. The house I live in now has been the most comforting stable house for me. Every group of my friends have seen me here. As I grow and change, this house has been my constant and I love it. However, this house is not my home. Yesterday, I realized that I have a very specific home. It is where my dad is laughing and my brother is secretly having the time of his life and the rest of my family is at the house. It is the assurance that when I leave to enjoy time with my boyfriend, there is still my hilarious father and silly little brother and my wise older brother and my endearing older sister waiting to spend time and be with me. There is nothing like living near your family.
Being that I have moved away and come back, I have realized how important it is to treasure and respect your family. At the end of the day, they know you. Like they really really know you; through and through. We are at the last portion of ages where we will all live in the same region and be able to see each other on a weekly basis. However, this is the time of our lives. I am so excited to see how each of creates our own adult homes and families and how we will support and encourage each other. I love my family and my home. They are my home.
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