Home

How I built a home.

It wasn’t with bricks or logs. It wasn’t even the slow, but steady accumulation of stuff -- pictures, dishes, canned vegetables. 

I built a home on the backs of 

sturdy, loving people who smiled kindly at me when I made mistakes. 

I built a home with laughter and tears shared with family, old and new.

Or maybe I didn’t build it; I grew it.

Planted seeds in unknown soil and prayed for rain. I covered it 

in blankets through the cold winters and hoped it would survive until spring. 

And after a few years it took. 

My home sprouted and grew, tall and leafy with plenty of shade to shelter me.

A sturdy home with deep roots. 

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It has been an emotion few days and I've had lots to ponder. I keep coming back to the thought of home and how important my life in Madison has become, how happy I am here with such wonderful friends and family surrounding me. It's surprising how easily I put down roots and how good it feels.