Holidays.

The holidays always seem to trudge up emotions that you never seem to have on a day to day basis. Like going home. "home" . I guess it is nice to be able to go over to my moms house in which she surrounds herself in a house that is a third of the size of our old house and every bit of furniture that she owned. I guess that makes it feel like home. Only the kitchen is too small for all of us to sit and talk. The dogs are attacking each other and you can see the neighbors through the windows. I took my brother home and went on with my search. I found myself turning onto that same back road and bottoming out my lease as I neared what I was hoping would still be there. The house was black even though a man and his wife now occupy my old safe haven. I peered into my old window, still no blinds ( I never understood that). I backed up and went up the drive way and pressed the 1617. I knew everything would be the same. Smoke filled air, presents all over the floor, bottles of wine and the t.v. on way too loud. I've walked into that same house for the past 19 years but I never felt more at "home".