My Lovely Homes

Home is commonly defined as the physical place where one lives, such as a house or apartment. But a home for me is when on a warm golden evening, my mom and PJ stood beside Allison, Willie, and Hannah, while the dog Ebb curled happily at our feet, the sky blushed in shades of pink and amber before our eyes, laughter rang soft music through the air, the scent of fresh cut of fresh cut grass and my mom’s cake that she baked, and the taste of homemade cake lingered like a final note of happiness on our tongues. My second home, Kazakhstan, still breathes with the quiet warmth of old afternoons, where my childhood laughter lingers in the walls and my granny, aunt, and uncle move softly through the rooms like living pieces of my most tender memories, wrapping everything in a gentle, aching kind of comfort.