Home is a Feeling

Home. The place we feel safe. Loved. The place we belong. The adventures you go on. The memories you make. The feelings you feel. Drawing with my sister at the table, having a warm family cuddle on the couch. My dad going on a work trip, the sadness as he leaves. Him coming back, the happiness when he arrives. Our family is whole again, I feel safe. Camping as a family, staying up late and laughing at the fire. The warmth as I slip into my sleeping bag. The morning dew on the tent and the sunlight streaming through the towering branches as I wake up. That smell of cooking bacon and the delicious, crispy taste. I feel content. Fishing with dad, the quiet splish splash of the lake against the rocks. Seeing the minnows in the shallows, feeling silly trying to catch them. Feeling joy after getting a catch, the laughter as it gets away. I feel comfort. Those warm, cozy nights on the couch. The crunching as I walk on the fresh snow. Making snow forts and tunnels, trying to wiggle inside. Building snowmen, the snowballs getting heavier as I push, getting my dad to help me lift the middle section up. Driving to the snow hill, jumping on the sled and sliding down. Climbing back up, doing it again. The fear as I fly off the jump, landing with a thud. My dad helping me when I slip, I feel loyalty. My family, keeping me safe, comforted and supported. My mom, taking care of us. My pets, always crazy. My two dogs, fighting and barking. My cat, meowing and cuddling me. All three of them with zoomies. I feel belonging. My home is all of those places, my family, my pets, and most of all, a feeling.