When I was three years old and living in Toronto, my parents sat me down and told me that soon I would be a big sister. One of my earliest memories is of rolling out a long banner and painting, with a great deal of help from my friend’s mother, the words “Welcome Home.” The banner took place of pride on my porch when my brother was first transported from the hospital to our house. I remember sitting in my Grandma’s arms, craning my neck to see my new baby brother. And I was home, surrounded by my family.

When I was six, my family moved to Stouffville, Ontario, to a century home. I loved the creaky floors, the bright red door, and the short railings that were just the right height for me. But the walls needed repair, and a hive of wasps exploited their weakness. When I first felt the burning pain of a wasp’s sting, my mom was there with tweezers, a cold pack, a kiss, and a comfy seat in front of the television. And I was home, taken care of and safe.

When a new development was announced steps away from my elementary school, my family decided it was time to move again. I was thrilled, as our block was filled with kids my age and we had a backyard with enough space for our very own ice rink. Each evening, after I finished homework, I would take my iPod Nano, put on my favourite music, lace up my skates, and twirl endlessly on the ice. And I was home, free and flying.

When my house needed emergency repairs, my mom bundled my brother and I into the minivan and we set off on the long drive from Stouffville, Ontario to Orlando, Florida. As our car passed under the arch proclaiming “Walt Disney World,” my brother and I erupted into cheers. The excitement I felt walking down Main Street U.S.A. has never truly faded, and the sheer joy on my brother’s face at meeting Winnie the Pooh “for real!,” will always make me smile. And I was home, filled with joy at his happiness.

When I was growing up, my family would visit my grandparents in Vancouver every summer. Exactly what we would do would change from year to year; trips to the carousel at the Burnaby Heritage Museum, listening to my granddad tell family stories as we drove across town, dinners with my aunts and uncles with board games to follow. But one tradition was kept: every year we would go for a walk at Spanish Banks beach at low tide and wade to touch the markers. Waist-deep in frigid water, I would reach out with pride to touch the algae-covered posts, smiling at my aunt as she snapped a photo. And I was home, surrounded by nature.

When I was fourteen, my family was living in Vancouver. The atmosphere in the city was one of charged anticipation, as the Olympic Torch made its way through the city streets. Crowded into the living room, with the television on and the volume at full blast, my family watched with bated breath as Sidney Crosby approached the goal. As the stadium cheered, I heard the sound of horns honking up and down the streets mingle with the shouts from my family and my neighbours. And I was home, united in support for my country.

When I was in high school, I spent many afternoons and evenings on Granville Island as part of the Arts Umbrella Pre-Professional Musical Theatre Troupe. After months of rehearsal, we would perform at the Waterfront Theatre. Standing onstage, with lights obscuring my view of the people I knew were sitting in the audience, I would become another person and share my story. And I was home, making connections and in my element. 

When December rolled around each year, our Christmas tree would go up. As I unpacked the ornaments and wrestled with the eternally tangled lights, my brother would crank up the carols, fan the flames until our old fireplace sprung to life, and bring over a plate of shortbread cookies. Together we would trim the tree, and once it was deemed perfect and the star was placed on top (with due pomp and circumstance, of course), we would lie down and look up at the lights sparkling among the branches. And I was home, filled with love and the spirit of giving.

When I signed my first lease, I moved everything I could fit into one suitcase into a cozy apartment in the Plateau area of Montreal and headed off to IKEA. My fridge was filled with bagels and smoked meat, and my roommates and I proudly displayed the McGill crest on the door. My family was four thousand kilometres away, but I was striking out on my own and studying what I loved. And I was at home, independent and growing up.

When my aunt’s tenants notified her that they would be moving out, my boyfriend and I talked it over and decided to move in together. We spent the summer scouting for deals on housewares and taking many, many trips to Home Depot as we worked in his dad’s workshop to build our own bed. As I sit on the couch with him, my great-grandfather’s painting of Spanish Banks is displayed on the wall right next to the photo of my boyfriend’s grandfather’s bi-plane, each a reminder of the places we came from that are alive in our hearts. And I am home, facing the future with hope. 

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Works Cited

“18 Places You Can’t Miss in Montreal’s Mont-Royal Plateau.” To Europe and Beyond. https://www.toeuropeandbeyond.com/plateau-mont-royal-montreal/. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

HockeyWebCast. “Sidney Crosby Golden Goal – Heard from 16 different TV Broadcasts – Olympics 2010 (HD).” YouTube, 28 Feb 2017. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TuGG9hV1tos. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

Huldie, Janine. “8 Ways Disney World’s Magic Kingdom Is Like Home to Me.” This Mom’s Confession, 2 Sept 2016. https://www.janinehuldie.com/disney-magic-kingdom-home/. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

Klinkenborg, Verlyn. “The Definition of Home.” Smithsonian Magazine, May 2012. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/the-definition-of-home-60692392/. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

Siddell, Kathleen. “Teaching my sons this Christmas that home isn’t just a place you visit. It’s a feeling.” The Washington Post, 5 Dec 2018. https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/2018/12/05/teaching-my-sons-this-christmas-that-home-isnt-just-place-you-visit-its-feeling/. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

Teitur. “Home is a song I’ve always remembered.” TED: Ideas worth spreading, March, 2015. https://www.ted.com/talks/teitur_home_is_a_song_i_ve_always_remembered?referrer=playlist-what_is_home. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

“Vancouver’s Spanish Banks Beach.” Vancouver’s Best Places. https://vancouversbestplaces.com/top-attractions/vancouvers-best-beaches/spanish-banks/. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

“What does home mean to you.” Habitat for Humanity. https://www.habitat.org/stories/what-does-home-mean-to-you. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

“What does home mean to you?” Real Simple, 8 Sep 2009. https://www.realsimple.com/magazine-more/inside-magazine/your-words/home-meaning. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.

Yankovich, Gyan. “‘I daydream about going back’: 50+ People on What ‘Home’ Means to Them in 2020.” Repeller, 23 July 2020. https://repeller.com/stay-home-quarantine-homesick/. Accessed 9 Feb 2021.