Home

My meaning of home is when I wake up and look outside of my window the sunlight beaming into my eyes looking at the field that surrounds my property, the smell of my mother's perfume filling the house. When I go downstairs and play with my dogs or when I feed my two cats, or my mother's arms wrapping around me while she hugs me. Or when I help my mother make dinner or clean the house with her. when I throw up in the middle of the night and my mother lets me sleep in her room for the night, when that one dim orange light turns on memories flood my mind, my stuffed animals on my bed that are older than me, the pictures hanging in my room of me and my dad when I was just four giving me nostalgia every time I look at them. The sound of my mother making work calls every day. The smell of the cool air hitting my nose filling it with the smell of grass and nostalgia. Every night when I make my bed and then cover myself with the cool sired quilts and my head hits my cheap pillow, I realize that this house I've lived in since I was six is my home, that is my meaning of home.