My dysfunctional family of origin starts to look better and better when I consider even the mob is designated a “family.” Left to my own devices, I’d be the consigliere in my clan, however, they voted me off the island decades ago.

The myth is families are there for you when things get tough and are interested enough to share the good stuff when there’s no drama to keep the story moving. Family resonates the ancient hope of the tribe to remain safe when the lions prowl.

Or not. Sometimes, they pour mesquite barbecue on your feet while you’re sleeping and feed you to the big cats.

Distance, death, difference of ideology, abuse ~ many events may disrupt a blood family.

In the end, the decision is ours to surround ourselves with the proxy family of our choosing ~ or those who have chosen us ~ and remember what George Burns said…