Home

Home is Lipton chicken noodle soup on a Sunday afternoon. It’s the melodious hum that drifts through the vents as you fall asleep. The safety of playing hide-and-seek in the neighbor's yard and knowing you'll always be found. If you fall asleep on the couch you’ll wake up with a blanket to stave off night chills. When you cry you’re heard, and the secrets you whisper to the walls are kept. It smells like mom and dad, and last night’s dinner. And you long for it when you’ve been gone for too long. Space is made and kept for you, unable to be filled by anyone else. It’s a place, or a person, or the feeling of love. Simply put, home is where you are from.