Home was going to school in Nickelodeon shirts and shorts to the knee.

Home was Mom yelling, waking me and my brother every morning to take us to the end of our gravel road where the bus stop was.  

Home was mom being a stay-at-home mom cleaning the house and doing everything around the house. 

 Home was Dad waking up at 4:00 am for work at the old courthouse in St. Louis, MO  for security. 

Home was my brother being so lazy not wanting to go to school so he would have my mom get his hideous blue jeans and plain black shirt with his Nike airs.

Home was Waking up just a little earlier to run outside and feed our horses Sugar, Bella, George, and our dogs Justice, Addie, and Lucky. 

Home is the Old Catholic churches’ bell ringing at 8 am when you’re supposed to be at school. 

Home is nicknames, knick-knacks, and Nickelodeon on the TV.

Home is Dad pestering me every Sunday morning about getting up and going to church. 

Home is not wanting to go but knowing it would please Dad and my soul, so I get up and go.

Home is not wanting to go to church because it made me yawn watching the service. 

Home is Mom’s biscuits and gravy, with me sleeping in the basement and smelling the delicious baking going on upstairs.

Home is my brother getting yelled at by my dad for his latest nonsense because Dad wants him to learn from his mistakes.

Home is a new rattling noise in your car so you call your brother to fix it.

Home is Dad calling every hour of the day for my help or just to see what I’m doing. 

Home is the crickets are chirping so loud, that they seem to have been in the house.

Home has one bathroom and everyone is crowded in and out.

Home is the alarm clock going off every morning at 6:30am to get up for school. 

Home is the fussing and clanking of things when my brother doesnt get his way. 

Home is the little parks all around our little town with just swingsets and a merry go round. 

Home is the black leather seats of my dad’s chevy impala.

Home is the two antique ice cream parlors just a few blocks apart. 

Home is the peaceful breezy night riding in my pontiac. 

Home is when it rains the little bridge down the road flooding.

Home is my mother yelling “Amanda Marie” when I’m in trouble.

Home is my friends call me “Mandy “ when they want my attention or when they’re excited to see me. 

Home is “Amanda Marie” when I’m a daughter, and “Mandy” when I’m a friend.

Home is mom coming home angry. I laid around the house instead of doing my chores. 

Home will be getting up every morning for a job I love. 

Home will be wearing Gucci and Louis Vuitton.

Home will be working every night on my college work so I can get a masters degree in nursing.

Home will be going to bed early so I can wake up early to the smell of coffee through the house as i’m getting ready for my job as a labor and delivery nurse. 

Home will be rushing off to the hospital to deliver babies. 

Home will be traveling as a labor and delivery nurse. 

Home will be sending my kids off to my mom’s house while I go to work. 

Home will be the safe place I call home.