"One eyed Christmas."(Kevin Hughes) Everyone gasped. His head sounded like a melon dropped from a tall building when his head slammed into the ice. The sound was sickening and it silenced everything …and everyone…at the ice rink. An off duty Paramedic jumped right over the wooden fence surrounding the ice skating rink, leaving her still staring ten year old daughter with her mouth hanging over. She had no idea her Mother could move that fast, nor had she ever seen that look of focused concern on her Mother’s face.

“Call 911! Do not move his head! Get me some blankets…or give me your coats…we have to keep him warm. He is in shock …at the very least.”

In a display of what Human’s are capable of in a moment of tragedy, it rained coats from both men and women who chose to freeze in order to help a fellow being in travel. It would have brought a tear to the man who’s head had slammed into the ice with such force that his skull was fractures in six places, and his left orbit was completely crushed. He was unaware of the pelt of different kinds of coats covering him. He couldn’t hear the reassuring words of the Paramedic, who was simultaneously trying to keep his head still, while praying for his family…and what was to come. She was certain he would never wake again.

In the distance the sounds of sirens poured into the now almost totally silent ice skating rink. There were a few sobs from people close enough to see the spreading puddle of blood pouring out from the pile of coats onto the clear ice. The Manager of the rink had thoughtfully turned off the music…but accidentally left the mic open. They all heard his quiet prayer for the soul of the fallen man.

“God help his family…this is going to ruin their Christmas.”

The Ambulance came. The Paramedics got a swift and competent explanation from the off duty …there own exam…done just as carefully…came to the same conclusion that the experienced Paramedic had arrived at: If he lived at all…he would be a brain dead vegetable. Both outcomes were about equally likely. The off duty Paramedic handed everyone back their coats…with a heartfelt thank you…and a: “Sorry about the blood, wash it in cold water.”

She climbed back over the fence to where her daughter still stood slack jawed. No words were needed. They just hugged each other. Some tears fell when the daughter asked in a quiet voice:

“He’s going to be alright …isn’t he? I mean Christmas is only five days away.”

She hugged her daughter tight. Her reply was soft, but brutally honest.

“We did what we could honey. That kind of head injury is rarely treatable. It will be up to God.”

They drove home in silence. She realized that the ambulance never did turn on its electronics when it left the ice skating rink with the man stretched out on the gurney in the back. She knew what that meant too:

There was no reason to hurry.

*****

He didn’t know where he was…at first. His head hurt like the dickens. He couldn’t bring himself to opening his eyes. Suddenly there was light everywhere, a commotion he couldn’t see, but was aware of. Voices he didn’t recognize seemed to be buzzing with excitement and awe. Finally he could make out some words:

“He’s awake!”

“He can’t be!”

“Look at the EEG! His brain is awake!”

“Holy crap…get Dr. Marson…STAT!”

Then he heard a soft soothing voice. A sweet female voice. A kind and honest voice. It wasn’t coming from outside his head like the frenzied scurrying voices around him as they raced to check monitors, his vital signs, and moving carts and tubes around. No, this voice was coming from inside his head…or maybe his heart…it was so kind and reassuring it could have come from either place…or both.

That voice was softly telling him it was safe to open his eyes…and that he would be…fine…just fine. He couldn’t help but follow its instructions. He knew that voice would never tell him to do something that wasn’t safe- or kind. So he opened his eyes.

“See! I told you! He is awake!”

The Nurse was staring at him with open mouthed awe. A slender figure gently bumped that nurse out of his range of sight. That slender figure presented itself to him with a strong professional voice:

“It is okay. Don’t be frightened. My name is Dr. Marson, Chief Neurologist here at the Cleveland Clinic. You took a nasty fall at an ice skating rink. We reduced the swelling in your brain, we had to rewire you skull…it was fractures. Your left eye is gone…it burst when you hit the ice. We did repair the eye socket…but that took three surgeries.

We had to removed some pieces of your skull and some bone fragments from your frontal lobe and the left temporal lobe. Can you hear me? Did you understand anything I just said? If you can’t talk, just blink your right eye for me.”

He could hear the silence in the room. Everyone had become quiet and stopped their frenzied rush to listen for an answer.

He blinked his one eye. A tear formed in it too.

“Oh…that’s good!”

Another tear fell from his eye. Maybe Dr. Marson thought it was good that he could blink yes or no…but he did not. He closed his eye and went back to sleep. He heard that soft feminine voice in his head …again.

“It is alright. You are going to be fine. More than fine. Trust me.”

For some reason, he did trust her…the voice in his head. The Monitors showed that he hadn’t passed out, or returned to a vegetative state…like Dr. Marson feared. No. He had just fallen asleep. His EEG, respiration and pulse were those of a sleeping baby. Dr. Marson smiled an ironic smile as she patted his arm and slipped it back under the covers. She realized that he may indeed be sleeping like a baby…because that is all he might be for the rest of his life. She turned the lights out and left the Nurses to their routines. She would check on him in the morning.

*****

“What? That can’t be? Who the hell let him out?”

Dr. Marson was beyond furious. She was livid. She came to check on her remarkable patient. Nobody with those kinds of head injuries should be alive…let alone aware. Yet her brief conversation with him yesterday…all of one blink of an eye..had spoken volumes. He could hear…and apparently he could also understand. She knew why those tears fell from his eye yesterday. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t talk. He had one eye left, and no way to communicate…that would bring a tear to any feeling human being. And now…he was gone. Not deceased (which would not have surprised her…even after yesterday’s slight nudge towards hope) but checked out - as in: signed himself out of the Ward.

The night Nurse was called in. At the end of her shift, he was still asleep. He checked with the Day Shift. Right there on his chart in big bold letters:

“Patient was ambulatory…of sound mind, fully dressed and aware of his rights. He signed himself out against Professional Advice. He left a short note, which I have included in his chart:

“Dear Dr. Marson, Staff, and Caregivers. Thank you for saving my life. I am grateful beyond mere words. I know it comes as a shock to you all that I have left the hospital…believe me, it was a shock to me too! I don’t need any more surgeries, nor do I need a glass eye. A patch is just fine, and than Dolores for me for giving me the fine looking black eye patch.

I am fine. Physically I have never felt better. Mentally, I can tell you my mind is sharper than it ever was before I fell on the ice. I know things now. Things I can’t share. And I don’t hear voices of have hallucinations. Well, I do hear one voice, but believe me, that voice is worth listening to. Don’t try and find me. It would be a waste of your time. I had no family…no girlfriend, or even real friends before the fall.

I am not going back to my old apartment either. You can’t find me. But…you will start hearing about me. Strange tales will be told. Some will even think they are miracles …they might just be. Just remember that they will probably be true stories. I am not a Saint, but I have been given some insight, and powers that go with that insight. I am not out to change the world…just to make change happen.

I love you all. If you ever need me. Call my name out loud. I will be there.”

Dr. Marson read the note. She called one of her colleaques and read the note to her. She agreed. There was nothing they could do, but he was probably delusional and maybe Schizophrenic. A missing person report couldn’t be filed. Nor could they pursue any Medical Necessity issues to allow them to bring him back for “observation.” Nobody had done a full work up…because he was a vegetable when they got him in the ER…so there was no way to show he was a danger to himself…or others.

She hoped he was okay. She thought about him for weeks…then slowly the cascade of events around him faded into the past. A single outlier in her Neurological Career. A few months later and he was merely an appendix in a Case Study. A few months after that…a wisp of a memory. She rarely thought of him anymore…until…

“I swear, this guy showed up. He only had one eye. He walked right into our apartment, took the gun out of my ex boyfriends hand…and hugged him. My boyfriend cried like a baby for ten minutes. The one eye guyed whispered something to him. My Ex boyfriend kind of slumped at the shoulders, turned and gave me a long look that I couldn’t decipher. Then he said:

“So sorry. I won’t bother you again. Ever. I wish you well. Please pray for me.”

And he left. I felt like the weight of the world was off my shoulders. I wasn’t walking on eggshells anymore. My two kids seemed to feel the same way. Because my eldest daughter hugged me and said: “We are free now, Mommy. It is going to be okay.”

The guy with one eye was gone. My ex-boyfriend was gone. My anxiety and fear…those were gone too. Replaced with a feeling somewhere between having a future now, and relief. The gun was still there. Right where the one eyed man had set it down on the kitchen table. I called the Police to come and get it. They wanted to know if I was sure I was safe…they had the old reports as warnings. I don’t know why, but they heard the certainty in my voice when I said:

“I will be fine. We are all safe now.”

Then a week later…another bizarre story hit the Newswires and Twitter. It brought tears to everyone who read it.

“Three hikers were lost for four days…they were dehydrated suffering from hypothermia, and should have lost fingers and toes to frostbite. They did not. They told the Rescuers who had found them, an unbelievable story:

“We couldn’t move anymore. Jason and Stephanie crammed into one sleeping back, and Miles and I, crammed in the other one. We didn’t have food, and our water was gone. We got so cold that we couldn’t even melt snow with our hands. We just lay there in a stupor. Then we felt the snow being brushed off the top of us. It was a guy with just one eye. He had a patch over the other eye.

He wasn’t wearing a jacket. Just a heavy fleece vest and a stocking cap and some corduroy pants. He seemed quite warm enough. He put his hands on each of us…I swear I could feel the warmth pouring into me like I was a tea cup and he was hot water. He did that for each of us. Then he melted snow with his hands and filled our canteen cups with it. I know this sounds like I was hallucinating, but I swear to God it tasted like hot chocolate. (NOTE: The ER Doctor who examined all of them, said they all told the same story. He said he found chocolate stains on three of their collars…and the Ski Patrol said that they all had chocolate mustaches when they first got there. Their canteens smelled like chocolate milk…but all that came out …was water.”

No one could find the guy with one eye. Nor could the Ski Patrol tell anyone why the went into that particular canyon to find them. All they could say was:

“It just felt like they might be there. So we went.”

Medals were given, along with undying thanks…but no other answers were provided.

Then there was this headline:

“Unbelievable! Two countries at war have agreed to a ceasefire. One country backed up the ceasefire by pulling every single Unit out of the disputed border area. And you won’t believe why.”

The “Why” turned out to be a short conversation that each of the warring Presidents had…with the same man, but at different times. All they knew is the guy had one eye, a warm and sincere carriage, and a compelling voice. He suggested to both Presidents, that there was a better way…and gave them a plane. The plan saved face for one of the Presidents, and allowed the other to give a sigh of relief. Both countries could start to heal…and rebuild.

What exactly the one eyed man said to either of them was never revealed.

*****

Back in the Hospital, sitting alone in her Office on Christmas Eve, sat Dr. Marson. Her Husband had left her a year earlier. Her two daughter’s now both in Medical School themselves, were to busy to come down for Christmas. Her husband had said that she had left him for her Practice more than two decades ago…she had to agree. Seventy to eighty hour work weeks, don’t allow much time for “quality time” alone with her Husband. She wasn’t even surprised when he filed for divorce. It seemed to be just another set of papers she had to sign.

Her daughter’s weren’t shocked either. But she thought they would never get married either…as they saw that balancing a career and a home life…isn’t an easy thing to do. In some ways she felt like a failure. She did raise two wonderful girls, with both brains and beauty…she held onto that. They did text her often…and that was enough. She hadn’t heard from him since the Divorce was granted. She never expected to hear from him again.

And then, there was a soft knock on her Office door. She was working Christmas Eve…so that folks with family could be at home. She figured it was the Resident on Duty asking for either advice or assistance. She got up and opened the door. She almost fainted. It was the one eyed man she had taken care of a long time ago. He didn’t look a day older than the morning he checked out. His smile was as soft as his voice, and just as warm and welcoming.

“Oh, Hi. I didn’t expect to see you again. Come on in.”

The man glided in the room, light on his feet like a ballet dancer or mime…just sort of slid over to the couch in her Office.

“How are you?”

She asked with genuine curiosity. His answer was a jolt.

“Actually, I came to ask you just that very question.”

“Why?”

He smiled again. Tapping the seat next to him in a “come sit beside me” like gesture. She did.

When she sat next to him, he angled slightly so he could look directly at her.

“Because, I think you have let yourself become numb. I think you have replaced your emotions with more work and research. I think…you need a good cry…and a laugh.”

She started to say something when a damn broke inside her…tears poured out in a relentless release of guilt, self doubt and blame…self blame. She told him what a lousy mother she was, how horrible of a wife she had been, and how she hid from emotions with work. And more work. It all came out. Everything. Even back to her Middle School days when the other girls made fun of her brains and belittled her body.

When she wound down…he made her laugh.

“We are going to need another box of tissues.”

She looked over at how many tissues she had wadded up and flung at her wastebasket. The box of Kleenex was indeed- empty. She laughed when he held up a mirror and she saw her make up and mascara had run down her face, and surrounded her eyes with black circles. He merely smiled and said:

“I think if you check Ancestry. Com…you might find a raccoon or two in your genetic line.”

It wasn’t all that funny…but it was…she laughed so hard she cried again. But these tears didn’t sting.

She was at peace…for the first time in years. She had let go of all grudges, thoughts of failure, and the heavy blanket of not being good enough. She looked up at him.

“You know, I feel better. Good, in fact. You can go, I am going to be alright.”

He stood.

“Yes, I can see that. I am going to go. But I want you to do me a favor.”

“Sure. Anything.”

“I want you to wait here for about five minutes in your Office. Then I want you to go to the Staff Lounge and get a cup of coffee.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes. Five minutes…then get a cup of coffee.”

“Okay. Merry Christmas!”

“Thank you…don’t forget…five minutes…coffee.”

She laughed.

“I won’t.”

Five minutes later…she went for coffee. A tall good looking man, about her age, was trying to figure out where the pods were for the Keurig Coffee machine.

“Are you looking for these?”

She reached into a cabinet over the sink and showed the man turning to see where the voice had come from a box of coffee pods. He stopped halfway through his turn and just stared at her. She stared back. Something stirred inside of her. Something she hadn’t felt in thirty years…interest.

“Are you single?”

She smiled at his directness.

“Yes. Sadly.”

He beamed.

“Put those back (pointing at the box of coffee pods she had brought down from over the sink). I know where we can get a better cup of coffee. “

“Okay. But your paying.”

He laughed as he reached for her hand.

“Okay, but if we pass any mistletoe…don’t blame me.”

The little romantic that still lived in her heart …lit up. She knew that the gang over in X-Ray had hung mistletoe toe in their department. It just happened to be a short cut to the exit that lead to the Coffee shop across from the hospital. She would lead him that way. She was sure he wouldn’t mind.

He didn’t.

Across town, a single mother was staring into an envelope with enough money in it to pay her rent for six months, fix up her old car…and still leave enough to get gifts for her kids on Boxing Day. The one eyed man who gave her the envelope smiled as she recounted the money for the third time. When she looked up again… stunned into silence he turned to walk away. She heard his words drifting back to her clearly:

“Merry Christmas!”

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