I am about to spend time with some of my best friends from grade school, Jr. High and High School. Yep, you’ve guessed it. It’s time for my high school reunion. I’m excited about it but as we all are, I’ve a bit of trepidation too. I’ll be seeing kids I haven’t seen in years. The last time most of these people saw me or talked to me, I was a married woman. I know there will be others there with a similar story. They may be single because of a death or divorce. I recently had the most fortunate opportunity to talk with some high school friends via Face book. Some were great friends since kindergarten, some friends from high school. Many were just classmates. I believe there is a distinction between friends and classmates but it seems muddled as the years have gone by. I have shared much of the past few months with wonderful people I would have classified as classmates before, but now they are friends. I can’t wait to hear their stories,learn of their lives and cherish the opportunity to reconnect and make new memories. I look forward to seeing their smiles.
Although I’ve not seen many of these folks in 10 or so years, I’m very excited to just know they are well. The process of growth is so subtle when you’re in school. Almost everyone goes through the same growth spurts both mental and physical at roughly the same time, give or take. But as we age, some reach different growth milestones at very different times. What I’m talking about is everything, maturity, body changes, career changes and all that leads up to you being a grownup. I remember at our 10 year reunion, it seemed all anyone really cared about was who was married, how much money you made and so on. There was a decided lack of concern for the individual. Our 20 year was so much nicer. People worried about the person more, but not exclusively. There were still the comments like “Oh boy did she put on the pounds” or “OMG is he bald or what?” I made some very fun connections and new friends at both reunions.
So the main events are over. I have laughed so hard in the past few days. I’ve shed a few tears as well. My tears have been for joy, sadness, nostalgia, love and if I’m honest, loss. The loss isn’t all you would expect. This weekend I’ve learned about loss from a side I have not yet experienced. I talked with so many people about the loss of their parents or in some cases their child. I find it both ironic and flattering that most shared their story with me without knowledge of my husband’s death. There is one woman, absolutely gorgeous, athletic, and intelligent; I always thought she was perfect. Perfect in high school may not be what perfect should be or is in the real world. We made eye contact at the event Friday and as I passed her once she said hello. In high school I wouldn’t have classified her as a “mean girl”. But I was never in her circle of friend and as I look at it now, it may have been more my reasoning’s rather than hers. I spoke to this wonderful woman at length and found her to not be… perfect. But that made her all the more wonderful. I learned of the passing of her Mom. I’d never had the pleasure of meeting her mom; I didn’t even know this girl. Her pain way still so deep and she seemed to need to talk about the loss. I felt honored she had shared this with me. It would have been inappropriate for me to share my history with her so I didn’t. She shared her dream of finding a lasting love. This dream had eluded her. She seemed unexcited about her career. She spoke of being sad never to have had children. For a split second, I felt somehow superior to her. But I’m not and I know it. I had just taken a different path. As she hugged me when we prepare to move on to make other connections, she seemed to have been genuinely happy for our moment together. As was I. The “mean girls” for the most part are still the “mean girls”. The highest echelon of coolness still exists. The cliques still live on but maybe with some softening of their admission criteria. There are the beautiful people who were beautiful only on the outside but who no longer meet that qualification. Of course those with both inner and outer beauty seem to have come through the past 30 years somehow even better. I was amazed how often I heard women say that they were not planning to attend the reunion. They had gained weight, gone grey, lost too much weight, were divorced, in a bad marriage and so on. But they came and I truly hope they are the better for attending. I know I would have missed them had I not been able to see them. I was really unsure why some of the faculty showed up. I guess I just never knew they would be interested. I think it is how I was raised but the personal life of your teachers was, personal. It was gratifying to hear that I wasn’t the odd duck I sometimes remember myself to be.
The career path for my fellow Spartans is wide and varied. We have doctors, attorneys, teachers, nurses, accountants and pilots. I was amazed to discover the huge amount in law enforcement or fire service. I’m a bit unsettled to know some of these guys are legally allowed to carry some serious guns. I understood there to be fairly stringent background and psychological testing done before these positions were awarded to these guys. I could tell a few stories about some of them. The best job most of these kids have is that of parent. Absolutely all of those I spoke with relished their children and proudly presented pictures and shared stories.
The bittersweet of the weekend was the sharing of the news about the passing of my husband. There is no easy way to tell someone this information, in this setting.
Because he had attended a reunion of mine before and I have always talked incessantly about him, people asked. Some kids new just because of my continuing relationships with them but for many it was a dark cloud I reluctantly cast. I was somewhat shocked that people who did not choose to acknowledge me at the events on Friday or early in the events of Saturday, sought me out to express their condolences. It was very nice but awkward.
Our time together ended on a wonderful note with a brunch on Sunday. One of my friends kept absolutely everything. She had every dance program, every pin, badge, everything and anything that signified our high school experiences.It was fun to re-visit the stuff that made these event just that much more, special.
On the airplane home, I sat at the window. A lovely woman sat at the aisle. Just before the doors closed a very handsome man came and sat between us. The flight attendant came by to see if we were interested in a beverage during the short flight. The guy pulled out drink coupons and asked for 3 white wines. Given the very short flight, the flight attendant said she could only give him 2. He looked at both of us and said “how about a glass of wine”? Both of us said yes and he presented 6 drink tickets. The gentleman had recently returned from a 14 month tour of duty in Iraq. The woman was a very recent widow. Her husband of 16 years was part of the NFL. She was returning from a Sunday NFL game where her husband was being honored. And of course there is my story. In the short flight, I learned so much about these two strangers, I’ll now consider friends. We exchange information and hope to continue the conversation. When we received our wine, the Navy man raised his glass and said, "ladies, here;s to chapter 2". We clinked glasses and as I attempted to regain my composure after the irony of his toast, we continued to talk. We plan to have a reunion. I plan to attend, just as I will do all possible to attend the next high school reunion and the one after that. I discovered friends and relationships that I clearly need to support. I discovered the friend, I want to be. I’ll look forward to nurturing my friendships and relationships as I look to being nurtured. We may all just get some healing in our hearts, minds and bodies.
I hope so…
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