I rang the bell, so nervous and so excited. You opened the door, with a smile! We embraced.

You walked me through the rooms, through the smells, the memories. Made me a part of them.

You had put pink rose flowers by my bedside that smelled like lavender cake. Freshly picked for me from the big fields from your childhood.

You had written me a card, curled ink lines, telling me how much you were looking forward to our time together. Even though you didn’t know me.

You cooked for me, you fed me. With deliciousness created from your grandmother’s recipes.

I traveled to your home as a stranger. I arrived at your home as a woman, curious to find out more. I slept upstairs in the bed you made me as a friend.

A home is a house, room, space where doors are open for everyone, open for friendship.