Are we Home Yet?--Jessica

            As per usual, the war began after dinner was finished, ten minutes subsequent to the muttered and hurried dismissal of the boys to their rooms; him sitting on the couch while she paced in routine perturbation of what the future holds. However, tonight was different; the words, though much louder, were slurred practically to the point of unintelligibility. There, like most times, was yelling, but this time, unlike most times, footsteps came in irate sporadic steps towards the boys closed door. In fear the boys leapt out their window into the dim yard and started running; they ran until the fear passed and only then did they realize they were completely lost. They made their way through the dense fog using the limited moonlight to search for some sign of familiarity. After hours of what seemed like aimless wandering they thought saw the familiar glow of the lamp post that marked that they were at the end of their street. “Are we home yet, Theo?” the younger one inquired. As their house, now appearing dearth of any life or happiness, came into view the older one responded, “I’m not sure if we are, Billy. I honestly don’t know what home is anymore.” According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary home is “one’s place of residence”; however, I think that home is much more than that. I believe that home is not a physical place but, instead, is an emotional state of solace that is composed of the people in one’s life as well as the experiences that one goes through.

            Home is comprised of a myriad of scents that we’ve encountered in our lives. Sometimes it can be the fresh scent of our beds after a prolonged period of absence; the smell so familiar that it feels as tender as a mother’s kiss goodnight. Other times it can be the sweet aroma of a lover, a fragrance so comforting that it resides in our metaphysical bedroom, the place where we feel most secure; the scent of them acts as a sort of aromatherapy bathing us in their temperate love as if we were relaxing in the bathtub.  Maybe it is the tantalizing aroma of a pepperoni pizza from Domino’s that takes us back to the late nights and quiet conversations held in the kitchen. The nights where our bodies were so close to another’s that we could smell the garlic powder from the pizza crust in their hot breath, where the stench didn’t matter since what was felt was much more important than what was smelled. All these smells along with many others can be experienced throughout our homes, though the locations may vary for each person.

            Additionally, this figurative home is built with our memories of people and places that we’ve encountered. If we were to walk barefoot through our homes, with every step we would feel the names of our friends and family in the grains of the hard-wood floors providing us with the stability we need to stand on our two feet. The warmth of our blankets on a cold winter night would remind us of the warm embrace of our loved ones. The foundation, support beams, and roofing of our homes would be composed of the encouragement provided by our friends; so, of course, our homes would be strong enough to survive even the most formidable natural and unnatural disasters. The walls of our homes would be decorated with paintings that made us feel secure along with stills of some of our best memories to bring jubilation to us as we walk down the corridors; the walls themselves are painted with all the kind smiles of strangers and friends that we could always lean on whenever we felt exhausted. Throughout all of the rooms of our homes lie the innumerable memories that we have compiled during the period of time in which we have existed.

            While we may, in fact, live in one particular house for the majority of our lives, it by no means has to be denoted as our home. Home is wherever and whatever you want or need it to be. It doesn’t even have to be a place; it could very well be a specific person or group of people. Moreover, it is perfectly acceptable to feel at home when eating a certain food or hearing a particular sound. All these sensations, emotions, and individuals compose our homes, differentiating each of our homes from one another for we all have varying experiences; some homes may be amusingly eclectic while others can be meticulously uniform. All in all, whatever and wherever our home is does not depend on the mundane, tangible crafting of some architect but, rather, depends on the masterpiece that our minds produce through the course of our lives.