My home makes me think of family, the people who love me and make me feel warm. I think of all the memories of growing up and feeling so joyful. I think of comfort and familiarity. I think of all the birthday dinners that have taken place at the kitchen table. I think of the good times and of the bad. I think of how hard it was to deal with my parents’ divorce and my brother going to rehab. I think of the times when I would wake up with a bad dream and run to my mom and snuggle up with her in her bed and fall asleep. I think of all the time I’ve spent sitting on the couch watching TV. I think of all the Christmases we’ve had and all the Easters we’ve spent looking all over for the eggs that were hidden the night before. I think of all the pets I’ve had and how I loved them all so much. I think of how, even though I won’t live there for the rest of my life, it will be my home forever. I think of the place that I love to be and of the people I love to be with. Home makes me think of happiness.