March 27 2010

The date grounds me, the day we call today, this time, these hours, minutes, seconds from sunup to sundown.

The sun has not come up yet. It is 6:42 and the only glow outside are the lights that light the alley out my back door. A pretty cityscape scene of housetops black against the dark blue sky with dots of streetlight magic.

I came home last night to a phone message on my land line; the only messages I get on this phone are calls for anyone but me whose name starts with T and ends with Crawford, and my mother. My mom’s message tells me only that my brother is at the University hospital. I called her back to find out my brother has lung cancer and bone cancer.

My big brother, who threatened to beat up anyone who threatened me as a kid. My brother, the only one in the family with blue eyes like my dad, has cancer. This is the part of old I don’t want to get to.

My brother, father of three, grandfather of -is it 7 grandkids now? He was always inviting me to bring my grandkids up to his home up north on a lake, we’d take them out fishing. I was always too busy. Now, for a minute, time moves backward and then stands still.