I look out my bedroom window
and I see the church
that has lost its steeple
in a bad storm.
This is my home.

I look out my bedroom window
and I see the basketball hoop
where countless people
have attempted its rim.
This is my home.

I look out my bedroom window
and I see the soccer goal
where many hours of games have taken place
and I see the dented garage behind it from our many failed shots.
This is my home.

I look out my bedroom window
and I see the stump
from the tree that stood outside our house
for many years.
This is my home.

I look out my bedroom window
and see the tiny little sandbox
where we would play for hours
while Mom would sit in her chair and read.
This is my home.

I look out my bedroom window
and see the holes in the ground
where our swingset used to be and where
hours were spent pretending the ground was lava.
This is my home.

I look out my bedroom window
and I see the tiny slide
that we would slide down into the mini pool
as we were having the time of our lives.
This is my home.

I look out my bedroom window
and I see the burn pile
where we always said we’d have bonfires
but we hardly ever did.
This is my home.

Thinking back on all of this,
so much nostalgia rushes to me
and so many memories
come flooding back.

In reality, this isn’t my home
and this isn’t my bedroom window.
All of these views
are now being enjoyed
by another little girl,
just as I once was.

No matter where I go in life
I will never forget
the special memories
from my childhood home.

I’m thankful for my childhood
and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I’m thankful for the people
and I’m thankful for the places I got to go.
No matter what’s in store for me
and where life takes me,
Michigan will always be my home.