When Christmas Kind of Hurts

Christmas is an odd time of the year for me. I have seasonal depression, so I am always kind of down because of the lack of sunshine and the cold. But, thank goodness, there is medicine, family, friends, and radio stations that do not play all Christmas music.
It is a good time of year for so much more than being down, though. It is a chance to reflect and remember all the good times of the past.
A certain aunt of mine suggested that Kim and I start traditions, and one that we started was the Christmas pickle ornament. Since Andrew became a part of our lives, we hide the pickle somewhere on the tree, and he and his friends (every year there is someone new looking for the pickle) try to find the pickle so they win the prize. One year it was a bottle of Coke from Mexico, and Andrew won. He will never forgive us for that nasty tasting stuff.
Traditionally, we also watch movies like A Christmas Story, Christmas Vacation, Mixed Nuts (available in the $5 bin at WalMart), the Santa Clause 1 and 2, and others. We fix toast Christmas morning and open gifts. We pass out at some point. We enjoy the day together, and look forward to phone calls from loved ones, and now we get texts as well.
But Christmas also kind of hurts sometimes. This is my second year without Mom. I still see stuff in the stores that I think I should buy her, and then I remember that she is gone. Kim would buy her a poinsetta, and we always enjoyed the Christmas stollen. This will be my first Christmas without Dad in my life. He does not talk to me because he feels that we owe him money (it's a long story) and now does not communicate. My sister stopped talking to me after Mom died. So now our family togetherness time is a little smaller.
Today I thought of the time that Mom took me to see Santa in downtown Taylorville. Dad was supposedly busy. As we walked into Santa's little house, I immediately recognized that Santa had been replaced by my father. They explained "Santa's helpers" to me, which helped me to rest a little easier that night. I still believe in Santa because of their love for me.
But it hurts, I will admit. I miss my family. This may seem like something I "need" to get over, but I don't know if I want to do that. Memories are all I really have left of Mom, Dad, and Michelle. We did have good times, I wish we still could.
If Christmas hurts you this year, call me. I will probably understand what you are going through. But also stop for a minute and remember what you still have. Where would I be without Kim? Andrew? Our friends? My friends? Allen? April? And so many other people. And to that special aunt that taught us about traditions, thank you. You have made Christmas memories for us and you were not even here to do it. My best to everyone this season.