This is home

Home is freshly baked sourdough bread, and the aroma of shampoo on my mother’s head. Home is my Dad’s tuck-ins as I crawl into bed, and the warm and fuzzy thoughts that fill my head. Home is the warm embrace of my mom and dad, who take away any feelings of grief or sad. Home is spending time with people who care, and the happiness I feel during times of despair. Home is a place to laugh and play, it’s a cozy nest where I lay. Home is something I'm grateful I’ve always had, home is people who never make me sad. Home is never something to fear. Home is something that I hold dear. Home is not a place, or a space, it is life’s little moments that create feelings of love, and grace. Home can be anything from playing ball or baking a cake, home isn’t a structure, it’s the memories you make.