Dark

Monday, the day before Halloween.

We get up early, it is still dark. Shorter days make 5 am part of night more than morning.

Coffee takes the edge off, but affirms the bitter. The coffee is dark. I am tired.

We go out to walk the dogs. The wind is whipping in our faces. The dogs walk in front of us on leashes, I can see their outlines like guides.

The day before Halloween, a day for the dead coming.

I lost my teacher over two years ago, a dear friend in February, my Grandmother in July. Cancer took them all. I think of them up ahead of me, their outlines there, subtle, untouchable, but real.

I want to believe that, but doubt always rushes in, hard. The wind slaps me in the face again, takes my breath for a moment.

My family is riddled with cancer, on both sides. I know that is probably what will take me.

I think about the scans you can have done to seek out cancer. It shows up as dark spots, shadows, dense. I wonder about the dark spots in me. I know some of them, I visit them often, but what about the ones that might be there waiting, seeds lying dormant, until the moment arrives and they grow.