What is a home?

Ever since I have my own set of thinking and opinion, I always wonder what a home means. Or even- what does 'family' mean? 

I always remember I used to have a home and a happy family. I remember having doting parents and a loving grandmother. I remember taking pictures with my siblings, playing with each other. I thought I had a home, a happy family. 

But things have changed over the years. I no longer have a mother. Technically I have one- but she seemed more like an acquaintance to me. I still have my dad- but my dad's hobby is locking himself up in his room. I still have my ever wonderful and loving grandma- just that she's getting old and temperamental. And of cos my siblings- but no longer fighting over toys but clothes. Not to forget my amazing aunts- did so much for us. 

Things changed so does my thinking. Home is not what I used to think it is. Family does not mean a family. 

So I often ask myself this question- what defines a home and a family? What makes them a good one? 

I never have the answer because I'm still finding it. I guess I'll only know the answer when I have a home and family myself. 

If I do have so, I will never make the mistakes my parents made. I will never want my children to go through this torturing process of self-questioning about life- though on a very minute scale. 

If things hadn't happened between my parents and there weren't me, will everything be better? Will my parents be happier? 

Will I be happier?