Going home at the end of my first semester was bittersweet. As I filled up my suitcase, I packed away the people, places, and routines that had become a part of my daily life. It would be seven weeks until I returned to them. Once I completed my last final, though, I beamed at the sight of my mom’s car pulled up to the lightly-frosted Green. Suddenly, all I could think of was curling up in my childhood bedroom, the endless holiday baking about to ensue, and a houseful of siblings coming from three different states. I was ready to go home. Continue reading