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My pain is that I used to love this season. I won't go into it before I was an adult with my own family because that gets long. So, I'm referring to the time before older family members hadn't died and my husband and children were together. My mother, daughter, and son would visit the crowded mall, or only my daughter and I would shop together. It was so exciting! We'd go many times during the season and it was a great, big party. Even the challenge of parking was fun. We'd listen to music on the car radio while cruising around the lot searching for a parking space - I had a no-fail method. When my mom was with us she'd take us to lunch at a nice restaurant in an upscale store in the mall. The kids behaved so nicely, everybody felt fancy for the holiday season.
My family and I celebrated Hanukkah, which was absolutely delightful. I kept Hanukkah toward spirituality, not nearly as materialistic as Christmas. But I also made sure it was fun. Lighting the menorahs together, reading stories, singing, and small gifts. 7 nights of little "necessaries," a few pairs of socks, some gelt (token amount of money; in those days a $5 or $10 bill), a pack of batteries needed for toys. On the 8th and last night of Hanukkah there would be a somewhat larger, special gift...a small coveted toy or fashion accessory, but nothing major.
Christmas was meh for me; I looked upon it as a holiday for the children to spend with David's family, so that was good.
Anyway, all in all, I loved the hustle and bustle and joy, music, and lights of the holidays. I took great pleasure in decorating our porch every year.
My problem came when the children grew up, David and I haven't lived together for many years, and I spend the holidays alone. Most of my family, and David's have died. I don't dare enter a store (except a grocery) because to do so would bring up memories that remind me again of how isolated I am...the grief, how things have changed. So all I can think of doing is withdrawing and waiting until the agony of the season is over. I do light my menorah because it brings me a sense of spirituality and beauty. I hang a strand of Christmas lights in my apartment because they are cheery; I'll probably leave them up for months. I do my best to have gratitude for what I had. The saddest and, it seems to me, most unfair part of it all, is that it looks like I won't be having a grandchild to share a holiday with, a child to stand by my side, eyes wide, as we light the menorah together. I spend the season crying about that, it feels like a curse.
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