Home Sweet Home

April 13, 2012
“Home is where the heart is,” is repeated by poets and writers alike. In a sense, this quote, or saying, means that home is neither a place or thing, but a feeling when you are around the people you love. I do agree with this statement, but the reality of the fact is that, for me, home is where I grew up and felt that I would spend the rest of my childhood in. My home was not much- a one story, 3 bedroom, 2 bath- like I said, not much. But I spent most of my life in that house. It was apart of me. When you have something this wonderful in your life, you would try your hardest not to lose it. Right? But what if there was no way to stop the inevitable? I had the exact problem.

Although I cannot remember a lot of memories from the year 2008, I do remember the feeling of sorrow, and anger, and just calmness just flush around my head. One of the many events that happened to me during the move, that I remember, was when I came home from a family outing, well we drove somewhere and I can remember stepping out of the car and seeing the foreclosure sign that had taken its residence in our front yard. Being in the Grand Canyon state, most lawns were not green and ours was no exceptions. The brown colors of the rocks lying on the ground accentuated the colors that gleamed off the sign that wrote the rest of my existence. I can remember seeing that sign and just welling up in tears. I put my hands over my eyes and just stood there. I walked over to my Dad who was standing a few feet away from me, and I buried my weary face into his polo shirt. He patted my back and hugged me while telling me, “I know sweetheart. I know.”

Another event that comes to mind is my last day, April 11th, 2008. It was half day due to the fact that our state test, the AIMS, had just finished that Thursday. I remember coming from my 8th period, almost like walking down death row, and having people call to me, saying their final good byes. I had walked slowly, almost forcing my legs to walk to my mother’s room in the far building. People grabbed my weary and sorrowful body in order to hug me, and tears were flailing from everyone I passed. I finally made it to my mom’s classroom after all the emotional teardown and when I walked in, I was in full on tears and there was no way of stopping them. I went over and hugged my mom as my friends stopped in every once in a while telling me goodbye. After all that, we hoped in our truck, and drove to California in which I take residence now. We pulled in at 9 pm exactly.

Now as I think about it, it seems as if I never left, but still knowing that part of my life is over and I need to move on. California is now my home, but I will never forget the time I did spend in Arizona. Home sweet home.





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