My graduating class doesn’t know how to reach me, so they sent the message to my mom: We’re having a reunion. I wish I could say I was excited about it, but truth be told, I barely remember those years. All during high school, my closest friends were college kids from church who didn’t know I was still in high school. And because of the transitory nature of college students, I have no friends from my high school days–I lost touch with all of them.
From among the kids who wandered the halls of Bryan High, I couldn’t tell you who married whom, who is now famous, who wound up serving time. I can’t tell you from the college crowd I hung out with who married whom, who got what job, who climbed the corporate ladder. Even from my own college days, there are precious few I remember and vaguely know how their lives went.
I was thinking of this just the other day, maybe because of the reunion announcement, that the friendship I’ve held the longest is the one I made when we first moved here sixteen years ago. I know people my age who still have friends from their youth, but for the most part, these people live in or near their hometowns.
Society is so mobile these days. Friends leave to pursue their careers, move away from family and friends–from their roots, if they ever had any. Add to that the “out of sight, out of mind” mentality that seems so prevalent, and it’s a wonder how anyone can have long-term friendships.
Am I going to my reunion? Probably not. I can’t muster up the curiosity. I have a suspicion I know how it turned out. The popular crowd ceased to be popular outside the cocoon of school and handled the news of their ordinariness in various ways, from deep despair to a shrug of the shoulders. Those of us who were late bloomers rose to their zeniths in whatever they considered important and handled their moments in the sun in various ways, from insufferable egos to a shrug of the shoulders. At fifty-three, all our kids are adults and starting to give us grandkids; many of us are enduring the early symptoms of aging–arthritis, paunch, bald spots. Some are superstars, most are average. And the majority of them don’t remember me any more than I remember them.
No, I think I’ll hold out for the fiftieth reunion.
Kat Connolly – Kat’s Musings
Traci Bonney – Tracings
Adam Collings – The Collings Zone – 9/11
Sheila Hollinghead – Sheraly – 9/13
Tracy Krauss – Expression Express – 9/15
Janalyn Voigt – Notes From the Edge – 9/16
Edward Lewis – Sowing the Seeds – 9/20
Kerri Gallion – Just Writing – 9/21
Victor Travison – Lightwalker’s View – 9/22
Nona King – Word Obsession – 9/24
Suzanne Hartmann – Write at Home – 9/28