Any Road

Last night I let my high school class know I probably will not be attending our 50th (51st thanks COVID) reunion next month. I might, but right now I’m doubtful. I was lucky driving home from Colorado Springs that there was little traffic. I don’t think I could manage a two-handed evasive maneuver with my arm as it is right now. This realization dampened my enthusiasm.

I don’t see the doc until the 27th. Even then I have no idea what it will mean. And…I can still show up if it works out.

But…I am at this point in my life a little surprised at what my high school classmates mean to me. Out of our class of 200+ only about 60 had signed up for the reunion. I know some of my classmates have shirked off this mortal coil, others aren’t interested in high school reunions, others are too far away. After 51 years, 60 attendees is a pretty good number. Many of those coming to the reunion I don’t remember at all, but they remember me (?). One of them was once my sister-in-law! I wonder if she remembers that? All she seems to remember is that we were in the same gym class. IF I go, I will give her a stained glass box her sister made for me one Christmas. Another (who still hates me) married one of my best friends from college. It didn’t work out which was somehow my fault. Another’s reading group read Martin of Gfenn and we Skyped so I could enter their discussion. Others I’ve been in and out of touch with this whole time. Some of them were my classmates in junior high, and one of THEM — my best friend in 9th grade — is the cousin of my friend Lois’ best friend. Thanks to Facebook we found each other again and we’re happy about it. The world is small even if you don’t stay in the same place your whole life.

Each of us is vessel holding a lifetime of unique experiences. My own life is full of more stories than I ever could have imagined in 1970 when we all graduated. It’s crazy. We’re all survivors of godnose what. Whatever our stories, here we are.

Anyway, I hope I can go…

14 thoughts on “Any Road

    • Most of the connections are reconnections from my 40th reunion. It was humbling to learn that while I was willing to let go of everyone, they weren’t willing to let go of me. I still get weepy over that. I don’t think we always know what’s going on… (duh…)

  1. I hope, too, that you can find a way to get there. Some of those connections must be precious. I’ve no clue where any of my fellow high school students are.
    I feel sorry for anyone who carries a “hate” for fifty-one years, though. A worthless bit of baggage. 😦

  2. I’ve never been notified of any on my school reunions. Almost describes the story of my life. 😀

    It would be interesting to see what all those other kids had made of themselves. There were some wonderful people and there were some horrid people and I was too messed up in the head to really get to know any of them. I could have had some friends but I was too hurt and self-obessed in my mental shell to take the risk. Every contact felt painful, good or bad.

    I have 2 different schools I could realistically go to, one was a low income rural farming community and one was an affluent corporate community.

    • I was looking at the list of attendees (survivors?) last night and most of them were always just nice, sincere, enthusiastic, kind people — some jocks, some brains, some “socials,” but my class was also (apparently) one of the most intelligent groups to graduate from my high school (however they figure that out). I do know that I expected people outside of high school to be like them, but they weren’t. When I went to my 40th and learned about what some of them had done with their lives (rocket scientists, diplomats, CIA agents…) I wasn’t surprised. They were really special. I want to go, but right now I couldn’t maneuver my car out of a tense situation, so I just don’t know.

  3. High school stories are like no other. I hope you are up to going when the time comes. You’re lucky to have those connections even now. I only have kept in touch with a few friends from those days (high school was not my favorite time of life). My class was huge – around 360 kids. However…it would be most interesting to mingle with those “kids” again. My 50th is next year, so we’ll see if they can find me. Haha.

    • There were a couple of classmates who just didn’t let go. I’m grateful now though thought there was something wrong with them for a long time. How could high school matter so much to them? Or how could I matter so much to them? But in 2010, I got the answer to those questions. I doubt I’ll go, though. I think besides the injury I’m just done with driving up there for a while. I went up there twice in 2 months. It’s far. I hate the drive, but we’ll see… 🙂

      • I guess some people just can’t let go for some reason. I have a friend from those days that still gets together with a group from our 8th grade class & gives me all the details on their lives now! I don’t get that, but it makes her happy so why not.

        • yeah – most of us did not hold on, but the Internet opened a door and people Googled me and I’m pretty easy to find. That led to some sweet moments and reconnections. I value that more than I imagined I could. One of the people who didn’t let go was my first high school boyfriend and I know him and his wife and like them a lot. I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about all we’ve lived through in our lives — all of us around this age — and I guess sharing memories even if you don’t talk about them is more important than I knew. I cracked up 2 years ago when I had lunch with this man and his wife and he made fun of my mom. It was perfect. He got her to a T!

    • Every ten years, though some have been “reunioning” every five years. They’re already talking about 2025.” It’s disappointing and not. That’s 150 miles up there and 150 miles back and I’ve been up twice in the past two months. And, as we’ve discussed, I’m not really sure where or who I am right now. I’ve decided that there must be an “old-age crisis” at 69 or something.

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