Santa brought me a sick husband and my period for Christmas. Bah Humbug.
My father passed away when I was 16. I remember the first Christmas we celebrated after his death. It was the worst holiday ever. He had only been gone 2 months so reality had just started to sink in for us. I distinctly remember going to midnight mass on Christmas Eve and just sitting there trying to bargain with God. What would it take for just a little more time with him? No presents ever again? Done. That was the one I remember- I would give up Christmas for life. In my head, I knew it wouldn't work, but when you're in that low and hopeless place- it makes sense.
So here I am 16 Christmas' later- Still making deals. I'll trade you presents for a Hail Mary cycle in January??