Home is the beginning; where everything started. Standing on the edge of a run down cracked road, you look upon a brown house. A plain brown house with dark brown shutters with a grey rocky roof. A house where there’s grotesque fern trees are planted deep in the soil and their dried crusty leaves rustling across the yard. To people it looks like a normal house. No cracks or mishaps. Little do they know the dysfunction that house holds. That house is my home. The home where i took my first steps. The home that has been raising me for the past 16 years. It’s not only my home, but it’s our home. The home of our family. The home where the faint sound of turtles plop into the swampy water after hearing the roudey children run around the yard. The yard where the man’s face is carved deep into the old oak tree. The white walls covered in pencil scratches measuring our height over the years. The couches with the warm fuzzy blankets covering your ice frozen toes on a late saturday movie night. The home that is never silent. The querulous sound of an older brother coming from upstairs as he plays video games. The roaring sound of my speaker coming from my bedroom. The echoing sound of the young puppy wanting attention ringing through the house. The home that randomly breaks out into mini dance parties while cleaning the house. The empty home every summer afternoon when the entire family is out swimming in the pool. The freezer full of popsicles in the summer and the oven full of warm fresh baked cookies in the winter. The home where the separated family throughout the day all comes together around a wooden square like table, covered in paint smudges and knife carvings from Elementary school valentines boxes and pumpkin carving, sharing memories about their day. Each person having a different story to share. The home where all the fears and despair wander away and love and hope fill their place. My home to me was my beginning. The place that helps me decide which path to take. No matter the decision I make, whether having a good or bad outcome, will always lead me back to my home. And that’s something I will never take for granted.
The Havoc of a Home
May 25, 2017