Going Home

I have lived in my house for three and a half years now, but when I speak about driving from Phoenix to Washington to visit my parents, I say that I am "going home". What is it about going to a specific place that makes it home? Is it the feelings that place evokes, the memories, or even the aromas associated with it? I don't know. I love my home and work hard to make it a place that my family wants to come back to. When I think of my parent's house, it also is home for me. I am excited to sit on the front porch of my parent's house and watch the huge maple tree across the street loose it's brightly colored leaves. I am excited to escape the heat and have to bundle up for a while. I am excited to wake up to my kids excited squeals as my Dad makes them the biggest breakfast full of treats. These are the memories that I have of my ancestral home, and these are the memories that I hope my kids will remember, not only about their grandparents home, but about my home as well.