Num to Dom

A goodbye in a language I never learned.

We went to Hungary so my grandfather could die where he was born.
That’s not how anyone phrased it, but that’s what it was.
A quiet exodus. A return. A man folding himself into the soil he came from.

He was a man who knew everyone.
Like, everyone.
The kind of man whose cell phone rang so often it felt like part of his pulse.
One of the first people I knew to …