Home is where the heart is. Although this saying might be cliche, it's true. At least for me. Several people use this noun to describe several places, as they’ve lived in several homes throughout their lifetime. For me, I use it to describe one place. I have never moved, never began my life somewhere else, never lived in any other neighborhood--the only home I know is the one in my small town. This was until I moved to college. Although yes, I miss my home sometimes, I absolutely loved getting away. I consider Bryant University my second home now. However, no matter what, that grey, brick house in my small little neighborhood will always be the one home I’ll go back to.
The memories are what keep me so attached. I couldn’t imagine growing up as I did in any other house. Although it’s hard to remember every moment in that house, there’s plenty of videos and pictures to remind me. How can I forget the small little playscape in the backyard with the tree house and swings that years later turned into an above-ground pool? Or the maple tree right in the middle of the backyard that was used as our “base” in tag. My house was “the house” to play games outside at. All of our neighborhood friends would come over so we could all play capture the flag, tag, wiffleball, or even kickball. My backyard is just as special as the inside of the house and holds just as many memories. Even the small patio basketball court holds an important place in my memories as my brother and I would play “around the world” almost every day after we got out of school at 2:10 pm. The memories that I’ve made and the connection that I have to this house was something I never wanted to part from.
Moving to college and moving out of that house was extremely hard. At that point, I didn’t know what life was like outside of that house. I had spent almost every night in my twin bed at home in my shoebox room before college. Moving into my dorm room I had a new home. One with a roommate. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to share my new home with. My roommate at college is now my best friend and she’s what made my new home in Hall 15 at Bryant University bearable. Even though I love my second home at college, I will never forget where I came from and where I grew up.
I still get to come back home on breaks and it’s honestly the best thing. I walk in the door and I’m automatically greeted by my smiling little dog who’s always way too excited to see me. It’s nice being back home for breaks and sometimes for the weekend. I get to see my home friends, my family, and well, I get to sleep in my bed. I love my room at home with my elephant decals, and my many quotes on the wall, and even my Demi Lovato poster right above my bed. The one most important thing about being home is that it’s where your family is. You shared that home with them your entire life, and now the only time you see them is when you come back. Nothing beats being back in the one place that you’ve always called home, even if it’s only for a little while.
