Family?

Family? What is it? Is it just a blood relation? Few have the privilege to kiss their mother on the cheek, while few cry on her grave. Few have the privilege to share everything with their mother, while few don’t even have a mother. There are dysfunctional families. There is even a mediocre position, not the dysfunction but a fake-functional family. Everyone knows it’s not working; everyone pretends that it’s working. Someone in that family tries to make it up while no one else tries to catch it up. Not everyone has a fully functional, beautiful, and dreamy family. It feels good to have such.

Also, the family is not necessarily a blood relation. The person closest to you, the person who feels home to you, is family. You can call them a mother, a father, a brother, a sister, a friend, a cousin, a lover, or whatever you want, they’re not family until they feel home.


We all might not have the privilege to have all the family members every time around us. We can’t all have a fully functional family. But we all do have someone who feels home. They are our last refuge. They are Family.

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