Every family has its own particular dysfunction, which could even be a denial that dysfunction exists.

Mine is no exception.  There are the usual suspects, quirky character-wise; that is, relatives who refuse to conform to the mainstream.  Thank gawd.  How boring to live a cookie cutter existence.

When I was young, our annual July 4th reunions were held at an old logging camp.  My grandfather and his brothers worked at the lumber mill, so we were allowed to vacation out there for a few weeks each summer.  It was fabulous.  Beer was an ever present guest.  But, no matter how much anyone had to drink, there were never any fights.  Seriously.  My cousin Deborah and I still joke that the family is a bunch of “happy drunks.”

However, one year, when someone outside the family tried picking a fight with one of our relatives, he was quickly surrounded like Custer, and was never seen again.

On an individual basis, whiners are obnoxious.  A group of them, ie., the Jackson Family, is intolerable.

If there is a silver lining to their public debacle, perhaps individuals around the globe can look at their own families, and work on healing.

Sharing family stories can be a first step.

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