Home is Home

By: Reah Canada

I wake up on a cloudy May day. The light from the window is shining through my eyelids. I look at my ceiling, moving to sit up and feeling the cold air move through my window. I gaze at the window and see a stunning view of Lake Washington glimmering in the sunlight. I swing my feet on the carpeted floor and walk over to my desk, grabbing my hoodie and putting it on to preserve the warmth in my body. I walk over to my window and open it. Once I take a deep breath and breath in the spring air, I open the door to my room and walk over to my bathroom. I get ready for the day and go downstairs. 

“Good morning, Dad,” I say to my dad, who is in the kitchen making breakfast 

“Morning, sweetie,” he responds after hugging me. After I grab my breakfast and sit down, I look over at the lake. I always thought it was prettiest at this time, the fog hazing over the water and the other side of the lake, Seattle, just barely visible. I can see the fog creeping into the road below my house and cars driving below splashing in the puddles in the road. I could tell that it had just rained because of the puddles scattered throughout the wet road below my house. After, I drag myself upstairs to start online school. 

At 3:25 p.m. on the dot, I hear my mom call, “Kids, can you come down here? Family meeting.” It makes me slightly nervous, given that it can only be good or bad when a family meeting is called because of how rare they are. I walk down, the sun shining brightly into the living room, overlooking the lake right as golden hour starts. Being almost blinded, I sit on a living room chair. After my brother comes down the stairs, my mom starts to talk. 

“I wanted to talk to you guys about something I had briefly mentioned before.” This is a curious comment, given that I couldn’t figure out what she could be referencing. She continues talking, “About two weeks ago, your dad and I were talking about moving back to California. Now, this isn’t a solid plan, but we definitely wanted to talk to you guys about it.” I remember that my mom mentioned it, but I’m not quite sure that my parents were actually considering it. I can see and hear my brother burst up from his seat, ecstatic. He has hated Seattle since the day my parents announced it. I, on the other hand, am not so thrilled about this. 

“Now, this isn’t certain, so just express all the emotions that you feel and throw them out on the table,” my dad says, most likely directing it at me. “We thought that it would be best for you and the family. Ever since we moved to Seattle, we know that you, Theo, haven’t enjoyed it that much.” 

I push back my chair and walk away, signaling to my parents that I am upset. I don’t know how to feel about this, moving back. So I go to my room to think it over.

I close my door harder than usual, but it does not slam. I am on the verge of tears thinking about moving back. I have adjusted to my life here, and I have friends such as Lucy as well as my group of friends. I’ve just adapted to this environment, but when I move back to California, I’ll have to start another one. I can feel the wet tears pool in my eyes and slowly roll down my cheeks. Salty tears well up on my tongue. I am torn; I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. I want to see my friends back in California, but not like this; not anymore. I want to stay in Seattle. It’s where my home is, but I have to take into account that it might not be my parents.

Two weeks later, it was confirmed that we were moving back to California. Despite how I felt, my parents were persistent in moving. I realized that my input didn’t help much, but how I felt was still valid. I saw a text pop up on my computer and checked it. It was from Lucy, my best friend at the time. After I read it, I was shocked. The text reads, “I really think that we should end this friendship. It’s not good for me to dwell on you moving.” Why did she want to end our friendship after we had so much fun together? What happened? Questions fill my mind. I tried to text her, but the text turned green, signaling that we were no longer in contact anymore. I was heartbroken, but the only person I could talk to was somebody I hadn’t been in contact with for quite some time, Charlie. 

I opened my texts with Charlie and reached out with a simple message telling her that I was moving back to California. I expected that she would be excited, just as my brother was. She has missed me ever since we moved, and we got distant. This was an opportunity to grow closer together like we once were. After she responded, Charlie made me more excited to move, which opened my eyes to the life that I could have in California. For once, I was looking forward to the move.

We had to move early, before July, so that everything would work with my brother's new school. There were hundreds of boxes strewn throughout the house when the movers came. Our house was a complete mess. It took a total of 3 days to pack everything up and say goodbye to our house. After we got our affairs in order and packed our car for the road trip down, it was time to say goodbye. I looked out at the placid lake before we left. I was sad but excited at the same time. I heard the engine start and saw my brother get in the car along with my parents. As I got into the car, my mom called, “We’re off!” and we started to drive. 

As we drove down our hill, I heard music playing through our speakers from the radio: “Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful.” I recognized the song and started to smile. My smile was like I had won a contest, thinking about all the beautiful memories that happened here. It was sad to let them go, but at the same time, I felt ready to move back down. We reached the bottom of the hill and went on the bridge that connected us to the other side of Seattle. As we were crossing the bridge, I looked at the lake one last time, trees surrounding it with houses all along the border of the lake and the sun just barely visible. We head into a dimly lit light tunnel, and I close my eyes. It sunk in that I was no longer going to be living in Seattle anymore, but I knew that it was still my home because home is home.