Towards the end my dad had a chosen family. I met a lot of them ant his funeral, and they were all better than the biological family. He was never alone even when I was thousands of miles away, and that comforts me. The real family? Couldn’t be bothered to leave work at a retail shop while he was dying. The friends? Gave him a home, cared for him, carried him in their arms to the truck/hospital. I think…what it comes down to in general is finding good souls we can surround ourselves with and not letting those other people ruin us. If possible.