I Believe Home Is Where the Heart Is
What makes a home? Four walls and a roof. No, a home is much more than that. Home is a place full of so many stories and where memories are made. Home is a place I can feel safe and secure. My home is made up of a very important group of people; my family. My family consists of my mom Jena, my father Ronnie, and my brother Jamal. In my home, I get support and guidance from my parents. But one day, as an adult, one must leave his or her beloved home and create one of his or her own. For me, leaving home was an overwhelming process, but in the back of my mind, I always knew I could go back home because home is where my heart is.
When I came to Old Dominion University, I was excited to be on my own and make decisions for myself. I got an apartment five minutes away from the college, because the school ran out of dormitories. I was really happy about having my own apartment, and adding my own touches to it. After a couple of weeks, I began to feel emptiness inside myself. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I called my mother and she said I was homesick. My mom came to visit me and she tried to add touches of home to my apartment. A few weeks later I got the chance to go home. I was anxious like a little kid on Christmas morning. When I arrived home, I inhaled as much of the fresh country air, to get rid of all the car exhaust I had breathed in from the city. I looked around at my gigantic green grassy yard and the clear blue skies. I heard the frogs’ ribbiting as though they were welcoming me home. My dog tackled me to the ground and showered me with his drool. Then I set my eyes upon my house, and I felt a sense of happiness and security come over me. Inside my house, I smelled the aromas of my favorite foods being cooked. Everything was the way I had left it. My parents and brother embraced me with open arms. We sat down to a dinner of pork chops, mashed potatoes, collard greens and cornbread, and talked about the memories we had shared in our home. When it was time for me to go back to school, I was sad, but my heart was happy because it held the memories of home.
When I am sad, or things are not going right, I know that the weekend is coming and I can leave all my stress, and worries behind because I have home to look forward to. It does not matter how far I go away from home, it will always be a part of me. I believe home is where the heart is, because it is a place where memories are made, security is found, and where I have become who I am.
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