What is Home?

Home is with my grandparents. When I was little my grandpa and I would go out to the garden and pick the sweetest and juiciest berries. I remember my grandma putting on an apron and teaching me how to measure flour. My grandparents built their house by themselves, as they like to keep themselves busy. My grandma loves baking; she can make three batches of jam or seven pies in one day. Home might not just be a place; it’s more like a feeling where I feel belonged and loved. In the evenings my grandparents and I would sit down and eat the freshly made food from their garden. Even though I was little I still remember everything. At night my grandpa would tell me stories of when he was a kid until I would fall asleep. Mornings involved running into their room and reading until sunrise. At breakfast my grandpa would make the fluffiest pancakes I had ever tasted. Home is the memories made with my grandpa. Waking up early to watch the meteor shower. I had more of a bond with my grandpa, he liked adventures as much as I did. I do not remember much of the meteor shower, but I remember him scooping me up and feeling his heart beating against my small head. Home is in my grandpa's arms. It is like an umbrella that protects me from my fears and the cold. I love my grandparents so much. It is like I won the lottery. If I had to choose between one million dollars and my grandparents, I would choose them because they are all I need.