Looking at my life, I realize how many memories I have made at home and how important it is to me. The memoires, however, do not end here. There are so many more stories I have to tell, but I just don’t recall them. The one memory from my home is building pine wood derby cars. I was always involved in scouts when I was young and there were many times when I would get dressed at home in my scouting uniform and pout in my room. Going to the meetings was awful. The one thing I always looked forward to each year was the pine wood derby though. I loved to spend time with my dad and create a realistic car to race down the track. I always ran into the basement to find my Hot Wheels cars and scavenger through them to find the coolest one. I would always look for the one that had a sleek design with a creative paint job that I could mimic onto the wooden slab. My favorite car was from when I was in the 3rd grade and I was in love with the M&Ms car. My dad told me that we could give that design a shot and see if it worked out. We spent endless hours in the garage carving, crafting, and painting the car. I spent so much time in there with my dad because it had to be perfect. This garage was the place where we used to spend the most time on any project. This is where my dad helped me build pinewood derby cars, fix actual cars, teach me how to use all of his tools and how to fix many things, and most importantly where we bonded.

The basement is the hangout for kids. It’s where everyone goes when they have friends over. It’s where my brother and I go to game and have fierce competitions about who is going to win and edge each other out in the end; where my dad and I throw darts and aim for the bullseye, but usually miss—by a lot. It’s where my mom goes to wash out my well stained baseball pants or my sweat drowned running clothes. The basement is sentimental to my family. We all love to go down there for our own reasons. Mostly in the summer we go down there because it is the coolest place in the house.

The backyard is where we all go to play—besides the front yard. In the summer we are outside day and night. With the new patio built, we can eat dinner and lay in the sun on the hammock. In the evening we lay out and jump in the pool or all converge around the fire and eat some s’mores. Occasionally we will set up the projector and watch movies on the side of the fence. This backyard becomes the hot spot on all hot days over the summer and it turns into a place where we all go and spend time with each other, the rest of our family, and our friends. Along with this, the front of the yard is quite the attraction, too. All the little kids in the neighborhood converge here because we are the ones who have the basketball net and the hockey net. It is a fun time because I love hanging out with the kids and teaching them how to play sports and just mess around with them. The surprising thing is how much more energy they have compared to me. I remember a time when I was playing outside with my neighbor Christian. He was probably about four at the time. We were outside playing basketball and I was lifting him up and letting him dunk the basketball on the seven foot net. After an exhausting five hours of playing outside I gave in and said I was too tired and I had to go in for lunch. He unwillingly crossed the street and headed back to his house. A total of forty-five minutes went by and there was a knock on the door. It was Christian. He wanted me to come back out and play because there was a long enough time for me to eat lunch. For the remainder of the day we were outside in the eighty degree weather. I can say that I enjoyed playing outside, but he just wore me out way too much.

Home is not just a house that I grew up in. It’s a collection, a story, a lifestyle. My home is where I’ve grown up and become the person I am today. My home is the place where I go to feel loved. My home is a loving, welcoming house that I have become attached to and will always remember. My home is not just a home, it’s my life story.