The Feeling of Home and More

Home is often described using the five senses, but for me, it’s mostly feelings, and more. Home is the warmth of a mom’s hug. It’s the comfort of being with the people you love, even when you argue. Because yes, families fight, but somehow we circle back. We apologize. We laugh again. In the end, we’re together. Home can also be your friendships. Best friends aren’t perfect either. Sometimes we clash. Then we say sorry, and we try to fix it, maybe with a hug, maybe with a simple “Are we good?” That’s home too: repairing what matters. For some people, home includes siblings, maybe three or four, maybe one, maybe none. Siblings fight and make up, just like friends. Me, I don’t have siblings. I have my mom and dad, and I have friends I call best friends, even BFFs. We still mess up sometimes. We still find our way back. Parents matter. They care for you and help you live, not just with a house, but with support. Home is also like music. You save a song because it holds a moment. You replay it because it holds you. And home is memory: baby, toddler, kid, preteen, teen. Growing up can feel scary, especially when moving means losing parts of your old life, or watching people fade away. Still, you keep going. You build new memories with a new generation, even while missing the old one. Not everyone gets this. Some people don’t have a home, or parents, or even answers about where they came from. So if you do, be grateful. Not spoiled. Grateful.