Home is Love

The meaning of home is different for all. It can be big and tall and doesn’t have to have 4 walls. My home is where I grow with culture, tradition and love. Love is peaceful. Just like a dove. My home is where I grow and bloom. With family so special, If the amount of love was measured with anything, it would go BOOM! My home is filled with dreams, passions, emotions, and feelings. My family to me can never be just “beings”. When I think of home, I think of the yummy smells of the kitchen. Like the jar, we put all the cookies in. Or the warm hugs my mother gives. Home is where my family and I play, laugh, love, and forgive. I love my home. Not really the home, But the soft love in it that feels like foam. Home is a gift. Something I was gifted with 12 years ago, when leaving the hospital in a lift. I love my home, with all my siblings and parents, even that teddy bear. It’s where I keep memories, live, laugh, love, and share. I hope I never lose my gift. I think of all the memories there when I get a whiff. Home is a key ingredient in my life. Where I have fun with my family on nightly drives. In conclusion, home is where I feel love and get up when I fall. Home is special and different for all.