Santa Has a Death Wish

Five lessons of my first solo Christmas tree

Anna Murray

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It’s my first Christmas tree in five years. A growing puppy discouraged a tree from 2018–2020.

Photo by Hert Niks on Unsplash

Last year, my father was dying, and I was just beginning to peel back the layers of my husband’s iniquity. Yuletide cheer was in short supply. So no tree in 2021 either.

This year, as I found myself driving through Westchester, I made a game-time decision to get a tree.

I pulled into the garden center and realized this is the first Christmas tree I’ve done solo in…Ever. For me, tree purchase and setup has always been intermediated by man: Father, boyfriend, fiancé, husband, husband.

Now on my own, when the nursery proprietor named a price, I instantly agreed. First, it was half of what I would have paid back in Manhattan. Second, I had no partner there, one who seemed to believe haggling over the price of a spruce is as intrinsic to the season as plum pudding and partridges in pear trees. I paid and shoved the tree in my hatchback.

Photo by Ian Keefe on Unsplash

Back in my apartment, time to erect the tree. This was another exercise, I recalled, that involved much cursing at…

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Anna Murray

Tech expert, novelist, and essay writer with an ticklish funny bone. My novel, “Greedy Heart,” is First Best Book Finalist in the VIVIAN Awards.