"A sense of place is the sixth sense, an internal compass and map made by memory and spatial perception together.” —Rebecca Solnit
11 Edwards St. Guilford, CT
11 Edwards St.
I have always struggled with the idea of home. For me I’ve always been very lucky to have so many options of what I could really call home, however, when I am asked where is your home, my answer has always been the same. It’s 11 Edwards St. Guilford, CT. 06437. It is where I grew up with my mom, dad, and younger sister. As the years have gone on, things have changed in lots of different ways, but it always remained the place I call my home.
Guilford’s a small town in Connecticut right outside of New Haven. It is located on the ocean, and contains all of the aspects of a small wealthy town in Connecticut. Although I love Guilford and wouldn’t have traded my upbringing there for the world, it is not Guilford that makes my special place my home. It is my home itself and the people residing in it.
I grew up with my mom, my dad and my sister. However, my dad eventually moved out, and I was blessed with another little sister named Mia. All of these people, although they changed over time, were the reason for me feeling at home here. I grew up in a small, light brown house, which was never perfectly cleaned. It had white shudders, and flower boxes outside of each window. We had gardens surrounding the house, and an enormous backyard in which I was allotted unlimited amounts of time to play in. Everything inside was always a little disorganized, but that was how I liked it. I never felt too much pressure to have everything perfect, which I believe was a huge part in how comfortable my house always was to me. Because it was the homey-ness of my living room, and the smell of my mom making cookies for me when I got home from school, and my memories of always playing in the backyard in my woods with my friends that made this house my home, and nothing in the world could ever replace it.