Home Sweet What?

This scene, the scene of me right here sitting on this big comfy couch typing and deleting and typing again seems like it could be a movie scene. My feet are up, my hood is up, the heat is up. There is a foot of snow outside, I'm beside the window where the white Christmas lights shine brightly, offering me a better view of this computer screen.
Tomorrow I will be driving home for the holidays, another possible movie scene. I like being alone when I drive home. I actually look forward to it. It's some of the only alone time I get away from my computer, away from my cell phone and television. I plug in my ipod, put on my special playlist, and turn the volume to the point where I can't really hear myself sing along, which is probably a good thing. I do a lot of thinking in the car at this time. Thinking, singing, sometimes crying. And driving, of course I have to focus on my driving. But as I pack up my room and take down the decorations to bring home, I think, what is home? Where exactly am I going?
Home is Cheshire. Home is my street. Home is Mom and Christina and our cold house with the Christmas tree by the back door- colored lights. Home is baking, cooking, cleaning and other domestic opportunities to make our house a better place. All of which I love. I could cook all day, clean all day, it only improves the condition of the living situation, which then improves my mood, my health, and the mood and health of others living there. We've got company coming for Christmas, then different company coming after Christmas. It's supposed to be a stress free and relaxing season, but really you can't catch a break.
Home is that feeling I get when I walk back into my room, it's just the feeling of "home" and there is really no other way to describe it. I mean, my closet is empty, my dresser just has the reject pairs of underwear that aren't cute enough to wear anymore, my desk is piled high with bills, loan info, and lots of other nonsense mail. But it hasn't changed. The little twin bed still sits in the corner, blankets placed perfectly and the teddy bear sitting properly upright. My bed took the switch from undergrad to grad school just like I did, from "college" to " grad school", from immature to mature. The walls went from blue to white, the decorations from magazine cutouts to framed artwork.
Home is making that change, growing up but not growing apart. Moving on but not moving away. Home is something that I am extremely thankful for, something that will never change, only grow, and somewhere that I am certainly looking forward to being come tomorrow afternoon.