What makes a house a home? 

Is it the decorations?

The pictures in the hallway? 

Or the multiple alterations? 

I ponder these questions as I rest my eyes each night.

Thoughts flood my brain in the comfort of my bed.

The roof over my head.

The socks on my toes.

They provide me a sense of security. 

Is it the fact that I know I’m not alone? 

Or my closet is filled with my belongings? 

How is it truly ours if we took out a loan? 

Because the walls are covered with our childhood drawings?

I realize home does not have to be somewhere you reside.

Home can be anything you want it to be.

One does not have to agree with me.

But home is when family is by your side.

Home fills your heart with love.

Is it still a home if one is neglected? 

Not given enough to eat? 

Far from being protected? 

How is that house a home? 

It is becoming more clear to me. 

It doesn’t matter what possessions you obtain. 

Or how well you maintain. 

Comfort is from what’s inside. 

The loving souls that we call family. 

Is home where the heart is? 

Where your stomach hurts from so much giggling? 

Or spending time with neighbors and intermingling? 

Or is your house just a house? 

I grew up, we moved, and we moved again. 

My home became wherever my family was. 

Whether it was on the other side of town. 

Or not anywhere around. 

They made our houses feel like home. 

Nothing golden lasts forever.

 Neither do people.

But the love bonding you together will last a lifetime.

Providing you comfort in sickness and health. 

Which is worth way more than wealth.

How did I get so lucky? 

Always having a home instead of a house? 

Will this tradition live on? 

Or will it be altered by my spouse? 

The unknown can be scary. 

New faces and new places.

But have no fear.

Your home will not let you be unwary. 

Because it protects and provides comfort. 

 Can home be a person, place, or thing? 

Can it be a possession? 

Is it something that gives you comfort?

Or is it your literal home? 

To me, home is where I feel most comfortable.

Where I can be truly me without judgement.

When I am loved unconditionally no matter what. 

Me being raw and uncut.

Feeling connected even from a distance. 

So what makes a house a home? 

Is it up for discussion?

Or is it unanimous? 

Is everyone's idea of a home the same?