Home

Recently I was given a bit of advice from a pretty smart lady who also did peace corps (albeit, basically

forever ago ;P). She told me to try and let go of the notion of home. This being in response to my last

post about gorging on cheez its and peanut butter because it reminded me of home. In my vast expanse

of knowledge I decided to try and take her advice. About three minutes after deciding I would try and

let go of home I realized I don’t know what the hell home means to me. Since I moved around so much


as a kid I never really conceptualized home as a place. To me home has always been Mattie, the words

synonymous and interchangeable in my heart. After a few days of pondering my definition, my single

word response I think I have decided it’s time for an updated version, after all, if Webster is updated

often enough to recognize” twerk1” as a word then I should probably consider re-evaluating my internal

dictionary.

So far this is what I have come up with:

Home[pronounced like homo except without the “O”](noun)- Dad talking about his love of grranimals

and his bike, Pepe’s heinous screech meows, the sound of wheels on concrete, the sound of my favorite

people laughing (you know who you are), the smell of Chantilly, Krystal’s goony giggles and crooked,

adorable smile, and as always, Marfullus the Marvelous. Home is in most cases, not tangible, it is the

sounds that float through my mind as a drift to sleep, it is my driving force, what keeps me grounded,

you will never lose me to the wind, it is everything and everyone I love, but most of all, it is what makes

cuddle time

me who I am and what I carry with me everywhere I go.

Thank you for being part of my home, my wonderful, amazing friends.

amazing people