Throughout my life, my family and I moved and lived in different places all over Washington. Starting from Spokane, WA, we lived with our grandparents for some time. Later on, we moved to Bellevue, and then we moved into a small apartment in Tumwater, and now the house I live in. In my life, there are three different places that I call home because of the memories, and the loving family I surround myself with.
One place I call home is a place that is about an eight-hour drive from here to my family’s cabin home at Priest Lake, Idaho. My family and I go up there when we go on a getaway vacation, or when during holidays we want to see family we haven’t seen in a long time since we live so far apart from each other during holidays especially. This place is like home to me because I get to do different activities that I don’t do when I am at my house. I get to storm off in the water with our jet ski and ride with the waves on a sunny day. I also get to go out with my dad and sister on the calm waters and wait to see if we are lucky enough to lure in some fish on the boat. I remember one time that I caught two fish after two rides on the boat. Another thing that makes it home, after a long day, we would converse together at our fireplace, and make s’mores over the fire.
Another place I call home is my grandparents’ old house. Even though it was a long boring car ride, I always loved going to my grandparents’ house because they were very loving and fun people to be around. This is another place I call home because we would go on vacation, especially over winter break or summer vacation. Our grandparents’ house was another place where we would come together. Especially one Christmas that I remember so well, our whole family came together and celebrated Christmas together as a big family under the big Christmas tree in the big house and we all opened the presents that we gave each other.
Another place I call home is the house that I am living in. It’s the place where I grew up as a little kid with my caring parents who devoted their time to raising both my sister and me. It’s the place where my memories will be stored from the time that I started to walk, up to moving out of the house. It’s also the place where we share a nice meal whether it be a curry, rice, or chapati that my mom makes or a surprise casserole that my dad cooks up once in a while. It’s the place where we would come together and talk about how each of our days went. It’s a place where love makes the blue house on the hill my home.