Home, home is the sound of a football game playing loudly on our T.V.  Cheering at every touch down, yelling at each fumble and interception. The warmth of the wood crackling in the blue and orange flames, keeping us warm when the weather outside is sharp. Days like these are my favorite; I love the warm touch of my kitten on my legs, sleeping oh so peacefully. Purring, simply because he is satisfied at that very moment. Sometimes, when the windows aren’t fogged over, you can see out. Outside, our home is surrounded by marvelous snow-covered trees. Some days, when the weather isn’t bitter, you can see our delicate horses, snow covering them as if it was a blanket. Our home may seem so peaceful; however it is empty and alone, our family is incomplete. At the age of 18, it is normal to move out and on with your life. For my brothers this was because of the military. Zack, the person who was my get away, my safe place, is now somewhere in California. We are lucky if we get to see him once a year. They say “Home is where the heart is”, when your heart is in many different places of the world, it makes it hard to call your dwelling place a home.