With my husband at my side quietly browsing the Internet and twitter on his iPhone 4. I gaze across the living room to see my Dad in the unworn, slightly stiff la-z-boy. He is relaxing in the half way reclined chair, my son in his arms. My wawas are sitting in their crate with the cushy blue comforter lining the inside. Each wawa is snuggled up against the other trying to keep the warmth from escaping. The fireplace mantle is lined with family photos. I see my childhood scattered through these photos.
This is home. This is where I grew up. This is were the majority of my memories have been made since I was nine. After venturing out on my own on a few different occasions to different “homes”, this has remained the place that I can call home. One day I will have my own. One day I will be able to offer this to my son. Until then this will remain my surrogate home.
I love my view from here. I love being able to see my family untouched. It is beautiful to see that we all come back to home when we know we need a place of sanctuary.