You were talking to me in a dream the other night

I could see your face and hair all white

You were talkative in your usual tone

Spry, with red lips, and wide-eyed

Hard to believe you were 88

It was still as if it came for you too soon

December 22^nd was the date

Just a few months ago we’d talked about the symptoms

Weight loss, sweats, sore gums

Your blood told a story

The scans made it clear

When the radiologist called it wasn’t good

Something big in your lung

I could hear the unsettling in your tongue

It was the last time we’d talk

Until my dream

But I read some correspondence

Learned of your suffering

Your oncologist was honest

It was everywhere

Over the ensuing months it stripped you bare

But your picture in the obituary was as I remembered you

And as you appeared in my vision

Youthful in your 80s and still with good dentition

Also tall and thin

The envy of so many women

Why’d you come talk to me

Did you know I was at the crossroads

Do you know something I don’t know

You always lifted me up and expressed gratitude

Like you knew what it was like to have someone believe in you

You said it so clear that night but somehow the words were muffled

Like stars behind clouds

I asked you to say it again aloud

Three points

Again with your encouragement

Telling me to stay the course but don’t take it too seriously

Then two more things that remain a mystery

But the doctor at work the other day perhaps filled in

He said, “You know what the goal has always been?”

“To do as little work as possible with the most benefit”

I remembered it

I didn’t know you long before cancer took over

But you were alive till the end

Like youth’s owner

I was running a race that day

At the same time that you were slipping away

Just before Christmas

Your cells all eaten up

Is life a game of luck

Did you try to figure it out

In all the symptoms, the few months downhill

Thanks for coming in my vision

Maybe there’s no point in trying to figure it out

I hope you go on living still