Familiar Unfamiliarity

            I can smell it. It doesn’t smell bad, or good. Just kind of earthy with people undertones. I was unaware it had a smell. I’ve never been able to smell it before. The floor under my feet is cold, smooth wood. Not the hard, frigid tile that my soles are used to. It looks nice with the rest of the kitchen and family room. The carpet is gone, too. Replaced by a short, rough rug. My feet don’t like it as much. New lights hang from the ceiling, little bells of sun holding onto metal vines. My mom has found a new hobby: changing things.

The sun room is still a sun room, but doesn’t feel the same. Barbies, stuffed animals, Polly Pockets, toy kitchen supplies, and crayons scatter the floor and a toy chest is against the wall. I can hear Dora singing from the other room. I recognize a lot of it, but it seems so out of place.

I walk upstairs, the steps still carpeted like I remember, the same five picture frames line the wall on the journey upwards. Phil Collins plays over the speakers in the house, same as always. My hand holds tightly to the rough, blue, woven handle of my bag, something very familiar.  I don’t let go as I enter the room. It smells like boy. My green sheets are gone, replaced by brown ones and a boring, navy blue comforter. None of my dance pictures or trophies and souvenirs can be seen. The walls barren, the desk empty, and the side table only has a clock and a book. An electric piano has been added by one wall, a tie hanging over the chair in front of it. It isn’t my room anymore, my younger brother has taken ownership of this place.

Everything still looks familiar. It’s the same house, the same family, but it is no longer home. Home is in Provo. Home is school, and homework. Home is red walls in a 3^rd story apartment. “Kaley!” The voice of my mom wafts upstairs followed shortly by the echoed shout of my 5 year-old sister. I soon hear soft thuds as my sister is undoubtedly running up to get me. “Taco bell, right now. Let’s go, go, go!” She jumps up and down to emphasize the rush. Taco bell with my family, like always. I guess not everything has changed. Home is still here in little ways.