Home Is My Family

When I think of home, I think of my family: my mom and dad, sister, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. We are a close family who pitch in and work together like a strong and united team. Home is that amazing place where playfulness and hardship live under one roof. It is being with my family in all the small, quiet moments, as well as for the big ones, and all the feelings that we share together.  My mom and my dad give me comfort and make me feel safe every day. They work hard to take care of and to provide for me and my sister. Their presence makes me feel at home, even when I am upset after an argument. Home is knowing that there is someone in this world who loves me, spends time with me, and deeply cares about me.  One of the most peaceful times in my home is when I am going to sleep. This is when all of the sounds stop. There are no more people talking, no TV noise in the background, and everything is quiet. In those moments, I feel like a cat in the sun, just waiting lazily for when my mom tells me ‘good night.’ Then I doze off to sleep.  Watching games with Dad is the best because he makes jokes about the players, and we laugh loudly together. I feel relaxed when my dad and I watch hockey together. We share a love of sports and competition. Being with my dad is a carefree time! My mom is the one who brings all kinds of nourishment to my life. We make smoothies together before all my hockey and baseball practices. When I get any cuts or scrapes, she tends to them with care and gentleness. Whether my life is mayhem or I feel like a superhero, my mom is always the first to know. She is irreplaceable!  Home is endless summer nights playing volleyball on our front lawn with my sister and cousins. It is the cozy and cool autumn evenings with my family roasting marshmallows and laughing together over a bonfire.  Many memories that remind me of home include hockey: ice skating taught to me by my dad when I was four years old; my parents driving me to skating lessons and later to hockey practices; all the equipment fittings; and long hours getting to know and love the game. I do not remember injuries, bruises, or the countless losses. I do remember my parents cheering me on and being there for me every single time.  Last year, when my team won a hockey tournament in overtime, I realized how much my family means to me. We were playing against the best team in our league, and the score was 1:1. The game went into overtime, and my coach put me on the ice. We were on a breakaway, and I got a pass from my teammate. I shot it past the goalie and straight into the net! WE WON! My head turned towards the stands to find Mom and Dad full of joy. I beamed a huge grin at them. Dad was jumping up and down and clapping his hands in excitement. This was an amazing moment that I will remember forever (next to holding that 20-pound trophy). Home is not just four walls and a roof over my head. It is the closest people in my life sharing everyday moments together. Whether things are great or challenging, we always show up for each other, and there is no “home” without my hockey family.