in the comfort of a Christmas Tree

Today I had lunch with a friend I had lost contact with. He had just been laid off ("surplused" is the corporate term) from his job of 15 years. He was given ample warning to enable him to use the company's resources to seek another job within the corporate ranks or if necessary, elsewhere. During this process, he was diagnosed with cancer. Luckily, it was diagnosed at Stage 1. He was given several options, but his best choice was to undergo surgery to have the cancerous area removed. He opted for the surgery in November and has since recovered and is now fine. (A side note, he recovered in time to work for two weeks before he was forced out the doors.) As he recounted this experience with me, I asked him casually if he had gained a new perspective on life. In response, he began crying. I felt horrible, but he told me the entire experience was still a little close to him. He told me he cried when he and his partner were taking down their Christmas tree a few days ago. His partner was surprised by his outburst of emotion and asked him what was WRONG with him. My friend responded, "While I was recovering, I spent a lot of time lying on the couch watching Judge Judy and staring at that Christmas Tree. That tree with all of its ornaments and twinkling lights gave me solace and comfort. To dismantle it makes me very sad."