Home is not a place, it's a feeling

“Home is not a place, it’s a feeling.” This saying is framed and hangs on the wall of the fourth house, and in the third province that I have lived in. I am 11 years old, and I was born on the summer solstice, which is the longest day of the year, on June 21, 2010 in Yukon Territory. Home to the longest summer days and winter nights. For me, home is the places I have lived, the people I have met, the memories I have made and the experiences we have shared. All homes are special. I’ve lived in four and they're all different in their own ways. I discovered my love for Thomas the train in Beaver Creek, Yukon, found my first best friend in Truro, Nova Scotia, started camping adventures with my grandparents while living in Halifax, NS and adopted my third dog here in Labrador. Homes are important, but the memories truly make it home. My Mom and Dad are from Nova Scotia. My Dad works for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) and was posted to the Yukon right out of training. My mom moved with him and got a job working as a Border Officer with the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA). When I was born, they lived and worked in a remote community on the Yukon/Alaska Border. I was the only kid under the age of five in the whole town. We lived in a town where the population was more or less 50 people. All my friends were adults until aged two when my dad was transferred to Truro, Nova Scotia. I started Kindergarten and met my best friend Jane and her brother William. We started swimming and hockey together and to this day, she is still one of my closest friends and I now play on three hockey teams and a competitive swim team. My family and I lived there for seven years before my dad got transferred to Halifax. We moved there, meeting many more friends. During that time we had three family vacations with Jane and her family. I continued to play hockey, even against Jane. I attended a hockey camp taught by new gold medalists for Team Canada’s female hockey team. After two years of living in Halifax, my mom got promoted to Happy Valley Goose Bay. We’ve been living here for almost three years now, and I have more friends that are family than ever before. I’ve learned to ice fish, drive my own skidoo and shoot at targets. Sometimes, when my Mom and Dad talk about having to move again, I get really sad and angry at having to start all over again somewhere new. However, I am always reminded of the adventures I have had. The amazing friends I have made. The super cool places I have lived and most importantly, the memories. My Mom always tells me that I meet the bestest friends. My parents’ best friends are my best friends' parents. I am grateful for the life they have provided for me, and look forward to many more memories in the places we will call home. After all, “home is not a place, it’s a feeling.”