They say you can’t. I argue you can. Though it’s not a walk back in time, it’s a fast forward of experiences of the past, merged with where we are in the present. It’s not that complicated. I’m talking about high school reunions.
Reunions are a tricky thing. When they happen too early, people have not had an opportunity to live up to expectations, their own and the ones foisted upon them. There really seems to be a formula. Ten-year reunions are usually the ones that happen after all the dust has settled from senior year, we either went on to college or the business world or in some cases, married high school sweethearts. This is usually the one where the “whatever happened to” rumors start to swirl, from “I hear Bob went off the grid and no one has seen him since graduation” to “Rumor is he “blew his mind out in a car.” This is where urban myths are created.
Twenty-year events are a mixed bag, and as we hit # 40, we began to look back to take stock of our lives. Did our relationships succeed, did we marry too young, did we wait too long, is this where we thought we’d be, is this where THEY thought I would be?” Maybe the introspection doesn’t appear that obvious, but it certainly is rumbling around in there. And we had to deal with the losses: our own families and those of friends, from the street, from the playground, from the pot parties.
My 50th reunion back in October was a smash. It was like catching lightning in a bottle. It was time—the right time.
It made the most sense because, although we told ourselves if we wanted to stay in touch with people, we would have, we had settled into assessing and accepting our lives, with friendships of five decades becoming the ones that we treasure. The belief that “I have spent more time away from these people than with them,” is horseshit.
Along the way, I organized a reunion in 1988(17 years), 2000(29), and 2008(37) but these were the social crowd events, reaching across three grades, because we, as Senior boys, could rarely date girls in our own grade. They wanted college guys. And 10th graders were more likely to be impressed with our maturity or lack thereof.
By the time #50 rolled around if we had kids, they were likely married or divorced, with careers and families of their own. And many of us became grandparents for the first, second or fifth time But THIS was the one where the graduates started to drift back. But some had to be convinced…through emails, through Facebook, and, still cliquish, clearly based on ‘who else will be there?’
But the 50th? That was Gold. What made this reunion different for me was in the past, especially with the self-concocted gatherings, those friends had been the friends who, for the most part, became our friends as a result of who we had become. The growth process had been completed by High School in many ways.
Then I realized it was the process of the early years that defined us. It was 2nd grade through 9th grade, it was the time when we were not political. We were just kids who wanted to be kids. The hurried child syndrome had not yet been recorded in the history books and there was a sense of freedom and innocence.
We began the reunion weekend with drinks at a place that was built on the site of an old burger joint. it was a sea of family photos, hugs, kisses, and I’m sure a few unrequited romances. At 50 years, we were past the fights or long-held grudges. This was truly a love fest and that night’s official reunion went into the early morning. OK. Late evening. OK. 10 pm! We also knew or feared, that this might be the last. But today’s 68-year-old was the new 48 so I’m not too worried that a lot of moss is going to grow under our feet in the future. Who knows if that clothing-optional 60th Birthday Celebration cruise will happen, but we decided that a 70th Birthday celebration in 2023 would be the best and most rewarding way to go.
After an emotional weekend, capped by a farewell breakfast at our local diner, we all went our own ways with a new perspective we had not expected and emotion we were thrilled to have, warm to the touch. Many of us vowed to stay connected, promised to stay connected, and in the six months since, get-togethers and visits have been going on and have exceeded all expectations.
I have faith in people. I have faith in myself.
Santayana said, “those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.’ I think he was way off. Those who forget the past, don’t bask in the joy of the present. You can’t know where you’re going if you don’t know where you’ve been. Well, we were in a special place, almost like Camelot, and for a few brief days, we did go home again. And judging by the adoration we exchanged; we were never home alone.
Barry , like Joanne, you brought tears to my eyes. I had a wonderful time at the reunion. Thanks for the memories!😘
Barry, this brought tears to my eyes and goosebumps all over. You always know how to say it. Love you. 😘❤️😘