Going Back

This weekend I return to my hometown--not just to say hello to my dog or sleep in my childhood bed, but to reunite with old friends. After two and a half years of being away (and skulking around the smalltown grocery trying not to be seen on my short visits back), it's the first time I return for this purpose.

I will attend a hometown gathering, a sort of informal high school reunion. A bonfire. Most of the people who will be there are probably people I don't know or care to see.

However, since it is being held in honor of a formerly close friend on leave from the fabulous Armed Forces, I will attend. I will smile, stand around, and leave.

In between, I hope to reach through the crowd swarming around this year-absent man and touch the hem of his garment. Perhaps some small charge of recognition will go out from his clothes, and our malnourished friendship will get up and walk.

But how much going back can one do, really?