Home Sweet Home
HOME SWEET HOME By: Libby Reis From the moment you’re born to the moment you die, there will always a place you can call home. Home doesn’t necessarily have to be a physical structure. It can be a place that is a trademark in your life. It isn’t always a place where you live, either. It could be on the top of a mountain, with the cold, sharp wind blowing in your face, or submerged in the water with all the fish and you think to yourself; “This is everything I want.” Wherever you feel comfortable and safe. Your home can change, too. For example, my dad passed away in 2013, when I was six. In 2015, my mom met my stepdad, Scott. He had a 12- year-old daughter named Ryley. They are getting married in May in Boston. Scott is OBBSESSED with the Boston Bruins so it was kind of a default. We also moved houses. I doubt I’ll ever get my old home back, but I guess we’re trying to re-build a home after an earthquake. Just like a certain organization I know!! But anyways, shall we go onto the next paragraph? We shall!!
A house is just an assembly of materials put together to look pleasing to the eye. It feels a bit boxy. When you move in to a new place and you think to yourself “Something just isn’t right. “And maybe it’s not yet. But after a few memories made (and a few arguments resolved) it starts to feel like home. But sometimes it feels like a hotel. Hotels try really hard to make it a comfortable place for you to stay while you’re away. And they do pretty well. But, in the words of Dorothy Gale, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” And I think that’s pretty relevant to this essay.
I’m not going to try to tell you that a home is better than a home. I’m also not trying to tell you what a home is to you. Because we have different opinions. I think that’s important to say. Neither of us are wrong or right. But I hope we can agree on one thing; a house is a book, a home is a story.