Home is the place where a person feels more complete and comfortable . Being home is something a person could easily take for granted. Some
people do not know the difference between being comfortable in the presence of family
and being away with complete strangers. In my case it was when I went away for collage
that I realized these things for the first time. This first trip away from home made me
miss everything that was once annoying to me. The smell of home cooked meals, the smell of lavender during laundry night, and listening to my sisters annoying stories about what I did not remember when we lived in the Dominican Republic. Those were things that annoyed me, but which I embrace when I was away.
I was the kid who was never home. I could not have care less about my home. I did not know why people’s eyes burst with emotion when speaking about going back to spend time with their family, because I did not find anything amazing about my house or my siblings. For what it is worth I did not want to be there half the time. Having to listen to my mother arguing with my sister after she came from work was just aggravating. The smell of food in the afternoon made me nauseous .Having to share a room with my sister was awful .My baby brother screaming for milk at night made my head pound for hours in the morning.
Thinking about moving out of the house, was what kept me happy when I was there. Writing down all that was wrong with my family in songs gave me something to do when I was bored or when I was mad at the fact my sister cooked. Lily was my oldest sister and she made the most horrific meals in the world. She has to be top ten in the history of the most awful cooks. She made a stake that was hard as rocks, white rice with more salt than the Pacific Ocean, and eating her pork chops was like eating cardboard. My mother was always at work so my sister was in charge of cooking and cleaning. I helped once awhile or whenever I was...