Autumn leaves

But why family? Out of all the things God can mess up, why family? You're just born into a random group of strangers like an autumn leaf blown into another heap of leaves. You're forced to stay with them until you can stand on your own two feet. You even make them proud like how you notice a pile of leaves only because of that one pinkish maroon leaf that caught your eye. Yet all the pile does is bury you under with more leaves. You can't even escape it for you're just a tiny leaf. I'm told that I'm too small, I'm still growing. But I'm already dead, laying on the ground.

It rains and the dust is washed off of me. Every other pile is jealous of how people notice the collection with that one colourful leaf, but no one knows the rot it bears on its undersurface spread from the leaves below it.
Why hasn't the fire burnt me yet along with my pile?

Realization strikes! I'm responsible for my life. I was dependant on the mass for support, to be on top, to be noticed. The rot is spreading fast. I need to do something. I still can't do anything, I'm just a tiny leaf.
The slow whistling sound amoung the shedding trees is music to my ears. But oh it didn't lift me up? The rot has bound the leaves together, tight as *family*.
And boom! It hit me like a truck hit the leaves. Being carried away from that hoard is how I'm going to survive. I'm floating, where am I going to land now? I notice I don't fly as swiftly as I did before. The rot has done it's damage, all I can do is decay.

Ironically decaying is what keeps life going. For every new life to be born an old life decays away. The circle of life.
The rotting leaf blends with the soil only for trees to bear new leaves.
Maybe sometimes when you feel like you're dying and decaying away; when you feel you're stuck in a pile of leaves and you just can't get out, it's just signs of new life.