by KARA ALLEN, CSU Student Public Relations Assistant
A couple months ago I decided to take the opportunity that came with the heartbreak of the pandemic, which was to continue my college education remotely from a different place. I moved across the country during my senior year of college, holding hands with the uncertainty of 2021. With all of the change, I find myself happier than ever; but am evermore seeing the beauty that lies within what and who I call home.
My first dog, buried by the trees in the backyard. The treehouse my father built that now creaks and groans as you walk up the deserted stairs. The black mailbox on the road where our last name has faded. The dead end road where your neighbor is your friend. I used to curse the stop sign on my way to high school, And shake my fist at the restrictions from my parents. I grew tired of the routine that kept me safe, Feeling limited by the sunset every single night on my way home from practice. I helped my eldest sister pack for her freshman year of college with envy, Waiting for the day that I would drive through the stop sign for the last time. But as I watched my sister’s hand wave through the car window as she left the driveway, I felt the weight of being ungrateful for the first time. When I watched my next sister pack up her room, I told her the tears in my eyes were out of excitement, not pain. The girls I was once fought with and rolled my eyes at Had become my best friends in the world. Shortly after, my time came to wave my hand out the window, And then again after that a few more times. But as life often goes, There was a limit on how many chances I got to say, “see you soon”. The bustle of taking off your shoes in security, The 5 am flights that leave you drained and full of coffee. Turning on the radio, flipping through stations to find the song that reminds you of your mom. Those moments are not all that I had hoped they would be. We get to grow up. We get to move on and find where we’re supposed to be. We get to learn. But as the pile of bills takes up my counter space and I grow tired of a new stop sign, I’ve come to realize that I’ve learned only one thing. Home isn’t just the mark of a faded last name on a mailbox, Or the feeling of your childhood pillow underneath your head. It’s being the person that they helped you become. The smell of coffee in the morning, leading you to the people that breathed life into you. The people who kept me safe. The memories I can never repay them for. My home is filled with echoes of laughter and encouragement in every corner. So I’ll take my home with me wherever I go.
Kara Allen is a CSU Public Relations Assistant and is currently a Senior studying Communications at Minnesota State Mankato. Kara is from Grand Rapids, MN and has grown up loving to write in her free time; finding the hidden idiosyncrasies within herself through the writing. She plans on pursuing a career in Public Affairs for the U.S. Army and continuing on with writing for enjoyment.
