My meaning of home

The meaning of home to me isn’t a house made of bricks, it is a home with laughter and love. It doesn’t have to be 4 walls, windows, and a door for you to feel safe and loved to be home wherever and whenever. When I think of home I taste the fresh lasagna come out of the oven with the crispy cheese melting on the top, while I hear the cutlery clinging together as I take it out of the drawer to set the table. I can smell the fresh popcorn kernels popping with the salted popcorn pieces as I pick them up while watching a family movie. Home is where I can depend on my family through the ups and down, they are my love, my only love. Even if me and my sister fight will always love her. In the summertime I can feel the splash of water on my skin while I jump into the lake, I can feel the frozen ice cream hitting my lips on a hot summer day at the beach park in Steep Rock. In Canada I can see the maple syrup on my pancakes and the sound of chopping wood for a bonfire with, I can hear the northern lights singing as I lay on my bed in the camper at the lake and see the waves rippling while they swish up to the shore. My hometown has my back, I walk into the curling rink I can feel the cold breeze, I slide into a delivery “sweep”!!!!!!, my dad smiles, I feel proud. The meaning of home to me is my memories in a picture frame and my laughs in a story I love my home and the people around it, and that is my meaning of home.