“Home” can be defined in a variety of different ways. To me, home is the house I grew up in from the age of 6. My parents (before they went through a horrible divorce) were fortunate enough to be able to build their own custom dream house. Huge white house on a hill with a ginormous in-ground swimming pool. Over 40 acres of land to ride fourwheelers and dirt bikes on. We had so much fun when my brothers and I were little. I can remember when we first moved into (after my dad finished building it) and I got lost in the cornfield. My dad had to climb all the way on the roof with a ladder so that he could spot me. I cried for hours because I was so scared that I had gotten lost. After that, my dad ask our neighboring farmers not to plant corn until all three of us children had grown up. The past 5 years the farmers have began to grow corn again.
I guess this is just me reminiscing about how many memories were made here. Now my brothers and I are all grown and my dad has decided to put the house on the market. So this is my bitter sweet farewell I would love to see and hear about the homes everyone else has grown up in. Did they affect the person you became as an adult?
Sooner than later,
The Tiny Professional