me. The word makes me feel warm, comfortable, and loved. Home reminds me of all my happy memories, the people I love, and all of my favourite things.

Home reminds me of my grandmother. Although it’s been 13 years since I lost her, I still remember her so well. She used to spoil us rotten! Every time the five of us used to go and visit her, she’d make enough food to feed an army, and even then there would be leftovers. She made me traffic light jelly, a food that is more nostalgic than almost anything else in my life. She was always incredible, generous and loving.

Home reminds me of my mother. One of the most amazing people I know, she loves me even when I’m an idiot. I could not have asked for someone better to guide me through my younger years, and help me to be a better person.

And now, home reminds me of love. Of the feeling I have when I come home to my partner after a long day, and know that everything is going to be ok now, because I am home, and he is there.

It’s true that home is where the heart is. Perhaps that is why I have so many homes, for there are so many people and places that have truly captured my heart. From London to Bognor, from the Mountains of Maine to the wide expanse of Dartmoor. All of these, in one way, or another, are my home.

Published by Madison Pollard