Just so you know that I'm not being unsympathetic. My mom died Christmas morning. I don't remember when my father died as I try not to remember the bad stuff in life, but for my Christmas just brings back memories of watching my mother take her last breaths.
At least I'm not alone this year but being broke in a time when all we see and hear about is buying gifts just makes me want to rip Santa's head off.
Quote:
When I was seven years old. No! Eight.
All I wanted for Christmas was a new, red bicycle.
My favorite Uncle. Uncle Alfresco.
Swore to me that he would buy me that bicycle.
I counted the days 'til Christmas.
5 o'clock, Christmas morning.
I run downstairs and look under the tree.
What do I find?
Uncle Alfresco.
Dead.
On the floor.
Shot through the back of the head.
Plus, no bicycle.
It was a disappointing Christmas on many levels.'
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