Open the door and what do you see? A grandfather clock, captivating clicks letting you know that the limited time you have continues no matter what you do. What do you smell? Fresh food flying ferociously into your nose and lets you know that you are home. Clean laundry lingering like leftovers that are either eaten or given to the dog. Who greets you first no matter what when you walk through your doors? Your dog, a labor-doodle named Chico. Expressing energetic energy that is contagious. Without him our home would feel empty.
Walking through those doors is a reminder of what I have, and rather than complaining about what you don't have being extremely grateful for what you do have. Driving down that dangerous hill that leads you right to the place you call home. 50th, the street you drive on everyday to get to school and to get to the place you call home. Going from car to car, park to park, house to house, I am glad that in the end of the day I have a place to call home.
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