Home is its own story

When you step into your home you suddenly feel some kind of comfort. A comfort you can feel nowhere else. The smell of a burnt out candle. The memories you made in that space. How when you lost someone who you and your family truly loved and you stuck together to get through it all. Your art work on the fridge hung with a magnet. How when you couldn't fall asleep and your parents were there to comfort you. When you all sat down as a family for supper and shared stories about your day. Home is like a story book filled with different chapters of your life. Chapter one is when you came home from the hospital. Chapter two is when you said your first words. Chapter three is like when you took your first steps. A house isn't just bricks stacked on top of each other to make a building, it's made of memories to make a home. A home always has your back. The people in that space love you on your best days and on your worst days. A home never runs out of love; it's like it's filled from head to toe in it. The peace when you're baking with family, the peace when you sit down for a family movie. The people in that space never judged you and they never will. The people in that space never stopped loving you and they will never stop. The people in that space are a family, maybe a crazy family, maybe a peaceful family but no one can take that family love away.