Family

Home isn’t a place but a feeling. My lola’s house, family. My lola’s house, where I grew up. I loved the feeling of living in a big family. All the memories in the photos on the walls make me feel how lucky I am to have a big family and house to live in. Two years ago my parents decided to move because of my little brother. I cried because I was leaving my home, the place I felt safe, the place where I had my cousins to talk to. All left behind in the building with a roof. It took a year to get used to not being in a big house with my big family. It still feels weird but I visit everyday.