1.7

the house we lived in 

will always be home. Long summer days spent in the treehouse or by the creek. Warm evenings on the front porch, lighting sparklers in our pajamas. Dogs running around our feet, barking just to be heard. The fireplace warming our cold bodies after showers in the winter. Being pulled in our sleds behind the tractor. Making up the conversations of strangers walking by. Playing badminton, dad insisting there was a hole in his racket. Catching lightning bugs. Watering flowers and pulling weeds. Easter egg hunts and scavenger hunts. Mom, washing my hair in the sink. Game nights every Christmas eve. Seeing my mom read her Bible faithfully in the morning. Dad, always watching the news while he does paper work. The house we lived in. A place I’ve permanently made a part of my body because it made me. Home.