They Mistook My Grief for Weakness and My Silence for Permission — Until a Uniformed Officer Saluted Me at My Own Door
It is not.
Love is a set of behaviors, or it is nothing.
It is the blanket or the dumped box; there is no third category, and there is no exemption for family.
The people who love you are the people who act like it — who protect your dignity when protecting it is inconvenient, who ask before they take, who fold the blanket.
Everyone else is merely related to you.