When the sidewalk is wet, I can still see ALK EMcQ 2006 at the corner. It's eroded a bit so that it doesn't show up when it's bright and sunny. There's a bit of a metaphor there for an old friendship.
Abby scratched this in when they replaced some of the corner concrete when she was home for a visit; she and Eden had both moved away by that time, although to the same city. Both are married now, so the initials aren’t accurate.
When I run into old friends or relatives, I’m reminded of how poor I’ve been at keeping up with these relationships. There were several reminders at Dad’s funeral. I walked through the breakfast area at the hotel and Dotty and Jimmy said hello but I wasn’t awake enough to notice (having the common name ‘Mike’ means not assuming that ‘Mike’ means you). My cousins Daniel, Robert and James Knadler drove up from Louisville for the funeral and I realize that we should have had more to say to each other – particularly Daniel, who’s the closest cousin to me in age (3 months difference), and with whom I played quite a bit as a child. But there’s at least a family tie, however tenuous.
With old friends, the decisions made over the past 28 years or so have more permanence. What’s there to say?