Is a House a Home?

I lived in the same house since I was born and now it's for sale. It's not that I'll miss the house or the stuff in it, but it's weird things that I can't imagine not experiencing. I'll miss the smell when I walk in the door. It's strongest in the kitchen, but I can't explain what it is. It's not a smell that will be anywhere else ever again because it's a combination of everything here. I'll miss coming home for the holidays with my sisters and having all four of us in the house again and running up and down the stairs (usually on all fours). I'll miss walking up the driveway at night and seeing all the stars but being scared to death of the garage. I'll miss the absolute silence except for the ticking of the living room clock and the settling base boards when I'm the last one to go to bed. It's sad that we won't ever play dress up in the office or have pool parties with the tacky owl lights. And we won't discover old toys in the attic since it's all getting sorted and donated. Today I found "The Jetsons Movie" and all of my old barrettes. Clearly I was the most stylish kid in school. Who else would have a barrette that looks like cookies and a spiral noodle? It's not stuff we need anymore, but it brings back memories and there isn't a common base to come back to when this is gone. I'll come home less, because I'll never feel as comfortable anywhere else unless it's my own apartment. The home base won't just be where my mom is, because she will live with her boyfriend and I'm still not a fan even after 10 years. I can't feel comfortable when I'm on edge and he's telling me about the history of the chili pepper. I guess the base will have to be where I am somehow. I don't know if I'll leave NY in the summer and I don't know where I'll end up, but I have to create a comfort zone now. I can't just go home to the country to pull myself together, so I need to be okay without it.

Never a dull moment on the home front. At least the essence of small town PA will still be here, even if I have to stay in Dad's garage now. Today at the dinner table, Pappy said, "That emo boy." What? How does he know what Emo is? Then Aunt Lyn said, "No his name is EMILIO. Not Emo," and all was right with the world again. I started to explain what emo is to them and then just stopped because there's no point. Also, Sarah said she is bringing her bf home next weekend and Dad said, "tell him I have a lot of guns." Then he tried to text her something and didn't know T9 was on because he wasn't wearing glasses. So it said something like "Biggest ten network.Im resenting thatsee I cantext." Then he said, "tell Mike he better hope I shoot as well as I text." Poor Mike. Poor any boy any of us bring home ever to either side of the family. I'm pretty sure home will always be in Nazareth, Wind Gap, Bangor, and Pen Argyl PA. The house won't be ours, but the small towns, platter dining, and hunting culture will still be here. Today I drove past a garage with 3 cases of camoflauge Busch with the logo in bright orange writing. Sometimes they put the Eagles or Steelers logo on beer, and then sometimes they make beer to match the hunting gear in case the beer needs to blend into the woods too...