Home

What does home mean to me? Well, home has so many different definitions, home can be a place of residence, an accommodation, a dwelling place. Personally I think it’s very narrow minded to think of home as a place with four walls and a roof. That’s a house not a home. Home is the place you think about every second of the day, the place where you feel as if you’ve been away from it for years when in reality, it’s been twenty-four hours, it’s a place when you try to leave, it makes your heart ache so much it feels as if you’re going to have a heart attack and no matter what the circumstance, it pulls you back into its warm, inescapable clutches. Home’s the breath of fresh air on a scorching day and the smell of old books. It’s that feeling of butterflies floating around in your stomach when a plane takes off and the feeling of safety when you land. Home is sitting atop a gray cliff and watching the vibrant sunset filled with yellows, oranges, purples and blues and seeing the glowing constellations from 25,300,000,000,000 miles away while lying on your rooftop. It’s daydreaming in your attic while rays of sunshine stream through the window as if they’re coming from a river of gold. Home is found in your family (no matter how strange they are). It’s going to the beach and smelling the salty freshness of Lake Ontario with your toes in the sand and the echoes of laughter around you. Home’s floating in a pool on your back and feeling your cares melt away. Home is watching the Canadian geese flying beneath the vast blue sky, the elegant CN tower, the majestic Canadian Rockies, breath-taking Niagara Falls and the proud Canadian flag waving through it all. Home can be so many places all at once. The world seems so small when you’re at home, yet, as soon as you step away, it seems like a cold and scary place. So, as I finish this essay I ask you, where’s your home?