returning home

It was in the evening.

 I was on the couch wrapped in a blanket decorated in dog hair.

Two littles on my right and left, the rest of the Parks squad sprawled around the room. 

Scriptures out, someone was taking their turn reading. 

I wasn't looking at my Book of Mormon, I was looking at the Christmas decorations on the mantle. 

And I thought, "Home is a feeling." 

There was this warm, enveloping feeling in that moment reminiscent of so many nights pre-college spent reading scriptures as a family. 

Home isn't 4038 Cherry Lane. 

It's the feeling of being there. 

It's the feeling of being on Roxyann Peak, talking for hours with my homegirl Anna, Crater Performing Arts stage, Medford 6th ward sacrament meeting, the fields near my neighborhood, christmas traditions, the temple, and the individuals in my family. 

(to name a few) 

with that, here's 795,204 pictures to illustrate:

So going "home" for Christmas break was returning to those feelings, not a location.

And when I got on the plane to come back to Provo, it was coming home; 

Home to my lavender fuzzy blanket, snow-covered mountains, bells ringing around campus, the ballet studio, jamba juice, hundreds of people, friends who feel like family, & being on my own. 

I love being back home ;)