Home is Memories

Home is not just a place it’s memories. When you look back in your old room you get flashbacks of different versions of you.You also look back at the bruises, cuts and birth marks and remember the stories. I remember when I got my first flu shot, I squeezed my moms hand. Even the bad scars, like the one on my knee when I skipped four steps and fell to the ground. My dad always sings the same song when I get hurt. The song reminds me of home. I remember a lot of things from when I was three. One summer I was so happy because I was potty training and told my mom I used the potty three times while my brother ate sour gummy worms. Sour gummies make me feel at home because when my brother eats them his face goes all different and it makes me laugh. Home also tastes like baking. Every year me and my mom bake valentines cakes with different sweets. Home looks like walking in the door and my mom giving me a big hug. Home smells like my moms favourite flowers. Home feels like a warm blanket and feels like love, safety and happiness.