Yet again, I woke up to the repititive, terrible dream of my family dieing and me witnessing their death helplessly. Though, psychologically, it represents not the actual death but our perspective or emotions towards us and is a part of our subconscious mind, yet it shakes my conscious mind terribly.
Family means together. It is the group of the people who stay by us and share each emotion and expression with us. We might think that we are independent and can leave our relationships behind as we grow up in age, but that’s not how it works. That’s not because of the social strata and rules, but the fact that a part of our heart and soul always yearns for their presence and for the emotions we associate and share with them.
My father gives me a sense of security, not only economically, but emotionally and mentally as well. My brother always steers all the family members towards growth. My mother is the loveliest figure I have witnessed on this Earth despite meeting and establishing a relationship with all the other humans. She is the perfect wife for my father, perfect mother for us and perfect family member for the whole family. She is that piece of the jigsaw puzzle of our family whose presence completes it and fills it with joy. My paternal uncle and aunt are the cutest and the most understanding members of my extended family, though all the three of us, also including their son are the youngest in our family hierarchies respectively.
These people may or may not stay with us. Sometimes, those who are present right beside us don’t know our inner state. They cannot be called our family but the ones who stay away yet know our mental and emotional state are our family. Yet, the basic essence that we have somebody in our lives who would tolerate and refine the worst of us gives us an immense sense of security. Sometimes, it sustains and pushes us to lead a better and healthy life. It teaches and inspires us to live and not just survive.