I hate this time of year.

The sight of the twinkling Christmas lights/decorations, the strains of "O Holy Night" or "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer", the smells of holly, evergreen, and gingersnap, and the colder weather tickling our noses is enough to make me want to start crying.

You see, it was three years ago during this time when I lost my husband, Pat, and our youngest daughter, RickiJoleen, to a burgler who invaded our home.  He shot them in cold blood; I was the one who'd found them dead, lying in a pool of blood.

I still have nightmares, flashbacks, for which I am undergoing therapy; however, it doesn't seem to be donig any good.  The dreams, memories are too fresh, too painful, for me.

Before The Incident happened, we were a typical family:  me, my husband, and our four kids, then 12-year-old Caleb Shawn, 10-year-old Tiffany Joy, RickiJoleen Marie (six), and the baby, two-year-old Grant Michael.  We loved each other, and we loved life.

Then came that horrible night when we were awakened by the sound of heavy footfalls in our house, and shouting in Spanish.  Someone had broken into our house; we grew terrified.  I then heard glass breaking, the sounds of fighting, then a gunshot; after that, a couple of thuds, the sound of bodies hitting the floor.  I was paralyzed with fear; I didn't know what to do.

When I went to check in on my family, that was when I found my beloved husband, Patrick, lying on the ground.  Beside him was little RickiJo.  They were not moving; immediately I knew that both were dead; they'd never rise again.  I started screaming, and then everything went black.

That was the last thing I remember.  And it was about this time; I reemmber that clear as day.

So as a result of my life, my husband, daughter being stolen from me, I no longer do Christmas.  It's nothing but an overblown, overcommercialized holiday anyway; I don't want to have nothing to do with it.   This is why you won't find me shopping except for my family, and forget holiday parties:  chances are, I won't even be there.  And as for stepping foot into a church to see the latest Christmas pageant, I won't do that either. 

I'd much sooner stay home, forget that Christmas even exists.  To me, it's just another day, another reminder of what once was, and I'm sorry, but I just can't deal with it.

So on that note, leave me the hell alone; I don't need Christmas in my life!