The Way Home

1 min readSep 17, 2022
Photo by Jarrod Reed on Unsplash

Cats remind me of my father as they bring back a memory that was once lost in the abyss; his face lit with joy while feeding our cat. And the laughter and warmth that enveloped us that day.

Avocados evoke tender feelings in me because of my mother’s love of avocados. I am reminded of her tendency to contently eat one with everything. And how she would slice and share it with me without saying a word.

Those small moments have become my joy, wrapping around me like a blanket and keeping me warm and safe.

In my darkest moments, those memories are lamps guiding my steps. I walk down a path filled with dirt and pebbles, cursing and struggling the whole time. When I stop uncertainly, feeling like a stranger to myself, the lamps flicker and beckon me forward. They remind me of who I am. More importantly, they remind me of who I am to them.

At the end of the path, warmth awaits me with open arms.

I am home, I think.




Trying to make sense of myself and everything around me through short stories and essays.