Saturday, June 18, 2011

a house that might have been a home.

As a little girl and honestly as a big girl, I never understood why on earth Dorothy wanted to leave Oz. To me, Oz had everything. I always thought that the idea of "There is no place like home" was just cliche and that it's possible that somewhere is better than home. But reality is calling, there really is no place like home. If I have learned anything, it's that.

I love my home. A home isn't a place where you and your family gather, eat dinner, do laundry-- that's a house. A home is the place that you make the most memories with the people you love. It's the place where you run to when you have no place else to go. A home isn't necessarily one place with one address. My home consists of most of Provo Utah. It' is Wills Pit Stop and Timpview High School. My home is the University Mall and Del Taco.  My home has a Y on the side of it's mountains. My home is at my church building, the one by the round-a-bout. My home is Day's Market or the parking lot at Surf-n-Slurp. It's the Seminary building and the  Provo Temple. It's at my Grandma's, Sarah's, Lauren,  and Lydia's houses. Home isn't just where I go to bed at night, it's the places I go to fill my life with purpose.

I am missing the places I am most familiar with. I am missing the people I spend my time with, and the people who make these places home.  I miss my family. I miss the friends who have spent their lives shaping me into the person I want to be. I miss familiar faces most places I go. I miss the seminary teachers. Freak yeah I do. Every Wednesday, I wish I could go to Summer Seminary. If you aren't going, GO! Please! It's so wonderful.  I miss the faces at the Temple.

Right now, I am missing home.

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