Sitting in the living room with my nephew, the sounds of the TV drown out the rest of the world. I know he’s watching Gumball but what I’m watching looks more like a home movie of my childhood. I’m transported back to eight years old, and I can see happiness from my spot in Mom’s bed. The sound of Spongebob and my mother’s giggles mingling are the soundtrack to my best memories. Snuggled under our shared bed, bags of chips decorating the comforter, happiness feels warm and a little bit like crumbs. Sitting in the dark, neon lights reflecting off our faces felt like home. Over a decade and a thousand miles later, those lights still bring me back home.