Home

In a few days from now my family will rediscover what we've known all this while: home. Rather, A home.

We are leaving what has been home, for us, for the past 17 years and are moving to a new house. No doubt we are moving to a much larger house, a more peaceful area, and the beginnings of a new life. We are moving to what my father says is all his wildest dreams and designs come to life. We are moving to where my mom can look out the window and watch the chugging trains pulling into town, bringing her family home.

We are moving to the first house my parents have ever owned. And we are are leaving the best home we have ever known.

Home is where four generations have lived together under the same roof at the same time. Home is where we roasted corn-on-the-cob on a fire by the gate. Home is where my grandad clutched at his hair as his granddaughter plastered up posters of puppies, bikes and movie stars. Home is where coconuts falling in the garden had my grandmom sit up and listen close. Home is where my brother popped at silent tin cans and defunct CDs with a pellet gun, as my mom stuffed fingers in her ears to shut out the racket. Home is where my dad pottered in the garden, turning it into a bright explosion of color and wildly waving shoots.Home is where my greatgrandmom patiently taught me to embroider, we each speaking a language the other didn't know.

Home is where the doors were never closed and the hearts were always open. Home is where we have laughed together, fought each other and cried for those who were. Home is where Bruno will live for ever.

Maybe we will make a new home now.