I've lived at the same house in Taunton for as long as I can remember. All of my childhood memories take place at this address. We shared our home with my grandmother. It was comfortable, safe, and enjoyable--what every home should be. But when she died in 2003, a piece of home died with her. An integral piece of the only home I've known died with her. Because she was such a huge part of my environment, the repurcussions of her passing were amplified. I felt alienated from my sole sense of home. Home had to redefine itself.
It took a while before the redefinition was complete. Now home is comfortable again. My room is a place that I cherish where no one can bother me. I'll never have the same sense of home as I did before my grandmother's death, but the alterations are a part of life.