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story, isn't all arsty and confusing; I haven't won any prestigious awards from poetry foundations, but each poem carries a great deal of expression. Along with my photos, they too create warm memories for me.

And then there's family. Sitting on the ledge of a window in my room, I have cards they sent me when I had my stroke. In the kitchen, I have the plate left over from the chocolate chip cookies my sister brought me, when I was first diagnosed with cancer, and I have the "I love you aunt Lisa" card my 7-year-old nephew made me with his own two hands.

My sisters come to see me ever so often, so their love also endures in my home; if not for them and my husband; if not for the memories of fun times I had as a kid; if not for the kindnesses of my sisters and brother, this home would be a mere house. Four walls, paint, a floor. Just the basics.

But because of the magnetism of my family, their love and willingness to visit their cancer/stroke victim sister, and all the relationships I have with my friends, it did not take long for this house to become a home. Not long at all. In so many ways I am blessed.

And as long as I'm alive, no matter WHERE I live, as long as I have family, and our rich, endearing experiences both present and past, my house will always be a home.

Learn more about this author, Lisa Beach.
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