The one place I consider the most important in my life is my parents’ home. Throughout the years it has always remained a safe place in which I could escape. The home is located in Lucas, Texas. I often joke that it is a suburb of a suburb. Lucas is located about 40 miles north of Dallas. It is right outside of the suburb Allen. Lucas is a very small town. In fact, when I went to school there, we attended the Allen public schools.
As I leave the crowded highway and head towards my parents’ home, I feel my heart beating faster in the anticipation of being home. As I drive down the long, white driveway I stare at the amazing home my parents have been able to provide. This is their dream home. They designed it themselves in 1998, my senior year of high school. It stands on a two acre lot surrounded by wooded terrain. In the Dallas area this is an unusual sight, one my parents’ feel lucky to have located. The home is two stories and has a very pointed, steep roof. The front is covered in beautiful brown stone and brick. I pull into my normal spot in the circle drive in front of the house. A large elm tree stretches its arms over this not-so-popular spot. My car will surely
The next morning I awake and join my parents in my most favorite place in their home. Right next to the door for my bedroom is another door leading to the screened-in porch. We sit on the porch and feel the cool November breeze blow across our faces. In the background is the sound of the rushing water of my parents’ mini-waterfall and stream. The wind chimes sing as the Texas winds blow them around swiftly. The fresh air encompasses us as we enjoy the rich taste of coffee and the comfort of conversation. Soon the house will be chaotic with football blaring in every room, but at this moment I am surrounded by peace and relaxation. This is the moment I long for every time I think of a visit home, my most important place.
As I walk down the curvy path to the large wooden front door, I see the cross in the door window, and it reminds me of the large role religion has played in my family. Before the door even opens, I can hear the high-pitched barks of the family pug, Gracie. As I enter the house, I must immediately bend down to give her attention. My face is quickly covered in wet kisses. Right away I smell the delicious aroma of dinner. The sweetness of the scent tells me that we will have cake for dessert. I am quickly bombarded with love and affection from my family, while the TV plays in the background. My mother and father give me big, strong hugs and then help me