What does family mean to you...?

Because when I think of the word, my mind automatically takes me to a happy place...kind of like a family reunion type setting where all the kids are running around, playing with each other.  The adults are chillin' at the picnic and card tables with their choice beverages, laughing and reminiscing.  Music playing through the speakers and the sweet smell of barbecue being prepared.  In my mind, that word is supposed to generate happy thoughts.

Not when it comes to mine.

I know that everyone is not meant to get along with one another and yes, there will be differences amongst the bunch but, in the end, I feel like it should all be brought back together.  You know, kiss and make up.  If only it were that simple.  In the past few years, a lot of things have been revealed to me about my family.  A lot of which hurts my feelings, especially knowing that I am apart of a unit that could be this way.  Whereas some people who may not be as mentally strong would fall into a fit of depression, I am using this as a learning experience so I can know what to look for when it comes time to start my own family.  I'm learning that there are a few men in my family that I cannot look to as an example for what to look for in a potential mate of my own and as sad as that is, I'm (kind of) o.k. with it because in retrospect, they're teaching me what not to look for.  It's also sad because my two young brothers and cousin have no strong, positive males to model themselves after.  As a result, they are teaching themselves how to be men, desperately needing redirection.

But can we completely blame them?  Granted, they know right from wrong but if they don't see the positive outcome in front of them, why would they want to stray away from what they think is fun?  Just last night, I witnessed, by far, the toughest thing to date.  I will not go into detail or even tell what it was I saw but just know that it broke my heart, literally, into pieces.  All day, I've been going back and forth with my feelings as to whether I should feel sorry or play the tough love role.  The emotional Cancer in me is trying desperately to prevail but I know that this is something that had to happen and I'd rather it happen the way it did, rather than being left to the streets to be rectified.

Said incident has left a thick film of tension behind and I doubt if I'm the only one who can feel it.  I wish I could read everyone's mind here to see what they're thinking and who they're placing the blame on (although, I already have an idea).  Things have not been "happy" around here in a long time and as a result, it's pulling me further away from everyone to the point that I don't like being around anyone, other than my mom, for too long.  The place you call home is suppose to be a peaceful place.  A place where people can escape the foolishness of the outside world until tomorrow but, in the meantime, enjoy being home, with family.

I miss those family reunions and days where everyone liked being around everyone.

I feel like it's too late to start anew...