That yearning for togetherness, connection, support.
The feeling that you are accepted no matter what. No matter your faults.
No matter your mistakes.
No matter your flaws.
The warm baked bread aroma flows throughout the house like an enveloping hug.
When you step through the front door and you smell the smell of home.
A mix of potpourri, candles, and a bit of lemon pledge.
The wild, crazy, loud.
The quiet, tender, sacred.
The feelings and memories that are yours and yours alone.
Never to be forgotten or replaced.
Never to be duplicated.
Then you try to recreate "home" for your own.
After 11 moves and 11 homes and you realize
Home is where you are.
Home is with your family.
Home can be in a one room apartment.
A starter home with yellow walls you painted yourself.
A brown house with mice in the middle of the woods.
The adjustment comes with each new home.
But he feeling is the same.
Home is family.
Home is a husband and four kids
Who love you in spite of
Home is love.