Echoes in the Night
A couple of weeks before Christmas, Alexandra White was admitted into the rehab unit. Shed wanted to get in sooner, but there just werent any free beds.
Health always comes first, so when Alexandra got the letter from her GP, she was over the moon. The clinic she was being sent to was spoken of highly by just about everyone in her town.
Still, there was this little niggle inside herthe thought that Christmas was soon, all the traditions, the mince pies, crackers and carols It stung a bit.
Shed adored Christmas since she was a little girl. Loved putting up the tree, stringing up fairy lights around the house, the mad dash getting everything ready. But now, she had to let all that go this year.
From the very first day, she kept telling herself it was no big deal. This wasnt her last Christmas. With any luck, shed be back home by New Year anyway, maybe at least for a little while.
She more or less convinced herself.
***
Her room was cosy, a decent twin with a telly on the wall, and her roommate was a woman half her age. Soon enough, there was a full regime: physio, group classes, and even some light weights in the gymnasium. She even joined the gym exercisesa bit late in life, but the physio instructor seemed just lovely.
The doctors were all praise, telling Alexandra she was making great progress and really getting somewhere.
Shed smile, nod along, do her best at all the sessions, but deep down she still felt strangely sad.
For the first time ever, she wasnt prepping for Christmas. No piles of gifts to wrap, no planning Christmas lunch, no rifling through the wardrobe for the red jumper or a sparkly dress.
The season was happening out there somewherejust without her.
Health first, shed repeat to herself yet again. Its only one Christmas. Ill celebrate with my roommate and itll be just fine.
But on December 23rd, her roommate got discharged. The door clicked shut, and suddenly Alexandra was truly alone. It was absolutely silent.
***
On Christmas Eve morning, her children rangsent their love, asked how she was feeling, promised to visit after the holidays.
Fair enoughbusy lives, young families, Christmas traditions of their own. A few texts from old work friends trickled in too
And then, night fell.
***
Alexandra could hear how, after the Queens Christmas message, other patients wandered the hallways.
She heard cheerful shouts of: Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!
She didnt move from her bed.
It felt like an invisible wall had gone up between her and everyone elses laughter.
She started to feel like she just didnt matter to anyone anymore.
***
She clutched her mobile. She just wanted to hear another humans voice. But who could she ring?
She flicked through her list of contacts
Emily a school friend she hadnt seen in years, though they still liked each others posts on Facebook.
Comfortable, but hollow.
Andrew her ex-husband. No sense in calling him.
She kept scrolling.
Paul her son. Of course, hed answer, talk to her for as long as she neededmight even drop everything and come running.
But she couldnt let him see her weak. Hed always seen her as unshakeable.
She went through contact after contact. There just wasnt anyone she could ring just to wish a Merry Christmas, someone for whom it wouldnt feel weird or out of place.
She muttered into that sterile silence, Isnt there anyone I could call? Just one person
And then, quite suddenly, she wept.
Because here she was, with everythinga home, a career, countless acquaintances.
And yet, at the same time nothing at all. No one who was really there.
***
And that realisation hit herhit her all the way through. Alexandra made a snap decision.
She grabbed her coat and hurried outside. The cold bit into her lungs, fresh and sharp.
Near the clinic, there was a small, frosty park, with benches dusted in snow. She found herself wandering there, not really sure why, just needing somewhere to go.
On a bench, a man sat, around her age, maybe a little older.
He wasnt looking at the Christmas lights twinkling in the city. He was just gazing into the distance.
Alexandras heart squeezed. She wanted to say somethinganythingto this stranger.
So she softly said, Hello.
He looked up and smiled, a proper, warm smileone that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
And hello to you. Merry Christmas.
She smiled back, unexpectedly warmed by such simple words.
What brings you here?
Nowhere better to go, really, the man replied gently. My wife passed away three years ago. Daughters in Germany, rang this afternoon, sent her best. But shes busy. So, here I am. And you? Are you from the clinic?
Alexandra nodded. Yes, Im recovering from an illness. And tonight I realized I had no one to call. There are hundreds of numbers in my phone, but not a single person I felt I could ring just to say Merry Christmas.
He didnt look surprised.
Yes Loneliness creeps up on you quietly, doesnt it? One day, you just knowif something happened to you, nobody would know. Nobody would hear. And nobody would come, he said, his gaze soft yet serious. But you know, to keep from fading away, sometimes you have to take a chance. Say something first. Like you just did. Thats brave.
I dont feel brave
It doesnt really matter, he said, kind and calm. We arent born brave. We find a bit of courage when we step forward and meet life head on, even if its turned its back on us. And you know if you dont come back out here tomorrow, Ill wait anyway. Because now I know youre out there somewhere.
His words were so true and honest that Alexandra suddenly understoodshed always looked for someone to save her from loneliness, without ever realising she could be that person for someone else.
***
Back in her room, Alexandra slipped a piece of paper out of her pocketthe gentleman had written his mobile number carefully, his hand a little unsteady.
The emptiness inside hadnt vanished. But something warm had started to bloom, too. An echo of another souls voice:
Ill be waiting
For the first time in a while, Alexandra wasnt thinking about what shed lost, but about what the next day might bring. Not a brand new lifejust a tomorrow. Just the morning.
Maybe Ill ring him, she thought sleepily, drifting off. Just to say, Morning, StephenMorning sunlight spilled across the blankets and coaxed Alexandra awake to a world washed clean and sparkling after new snow. The rehab corridors were still hushed, most patients not yet stirring. For a long moment she lay listeningto the quiet, to her own breath, to the unfamiliar sense of hope flickering in her chest.
She looked at her phone. With trembling fingers, she tapped a message: Good morning, merry Christmas. Want to share a walk in the frosty park later?
She slipped it into her pocket and dressed, heart ticking with a nervous, unfamiliar excitement.
Downstairs, the kitchen staff had left a little tree lit up in the corner and set out slices of fruitcake with mugs of tea. Returning staff smiled and said merry Christmas as they passed, and one of the nurses offered Alexandra a paper crown from a Christmas cracker. She put it onwhy not? She felt a little odd, but also oddly proud.
She stepped out into the day, boots crunching softly. The air was sharp and tingly, the sky a crisp, wintry blue. By the bench, he was already waiting, a bright woollen scarf looped crookedly at his throat, a gentle smile ready for her.
Hello, she said, as if it were something rare and precious.
Hello, Alexandra. I was hoping youd come.
They walked, side by side, exchanging storiessilly ones, little secrets, griefs that grew less heavy as they laughed beneath branches spangled with ice. She realized it wasnt rescuing or being rescued, but simply walking with another soul awhileoffering the smallest piece of herself, and in return finding she wasnt invisible after all.
In the hush of Christmas morning, Alexandra pressed cold hands together and made herself one small promise: to keep reaching out. Even when it was frightening. Especially then. Sometimes courage was just an ordinary hello, a seat on a frozen bench, a cup of tea shared on the coldest day of the year.
And as laughter echoed around the quiet park, Alexandra thought this might be her best Christmas gift of allthe start of a new tradition, spun from kindness and a little spark of hope, lighting the dark winter days.
