Should blood be spilt in order for families to come together

As always, and I bet will always, I will forever have funeral phobias. Everything around it seems so creepy and deadly.

 For some reason, when I was young, I would always pegged funerals with parties, I mean excuse me if I am insulting anyone but when I die please dance.

I have been sitting here, browsing everything around me, crept out by every stench that travels to my nostrils and gagging at farm animal insides.

Its truly amazing how a family can abandon one another for days, weeks, months or even years and when blood is spilled, someone gives a ghost up, everyone sheds a tear.

Its mind-shocking to think that families have parted to find their own endeavours, forgetting where they have been rooted and erected. Man has actively engaged in selfish deeds and bloated out their families for a path of success.

My father's family has been the worst examples in my brother's and mine life. Shortly after father die, a house that was filled with buoyant family souls became a hole of bitterness and hatred. My dads pride filled family neglected us as if we had never sat foot in this earth.  

We always wondered in a world of what-has-been or what-could-have been. My brother always spent out piercing words of "I wonder if dad were alive what could have happened?". Accelerated anger drove within me, disgust was the only piece of affection I had for them.

Truth be told, my heart, mind and might erased my dad's family. Thus, I carried on with my life and I enjoyed the blessed second of it. My eyes ceased to stream a river of tears but peace took over our soul and clouded days beamed with sunlight.

Today, we meet again in a dreadful moment "DEATH". Yes, when one gives up a soul, families contribute a pool of tears. Now, I have to lament for a soul that I long gone forgot - I am sorry - it does not work like that.

If I were in their shows I would burned in shame and hide my face everytime I see "THEM" - which is my brother and I. That never happens in this family, excuses are shared on the table.

To be continued...