A Day In The Life

I received a notification on Facebook yesterday that I had been added to the 40th year high school reunion group for my class. 40 years? Really? Is it possible that I am old enough to actually have graduated from high school 40 years ago? In my town, we went to a junior high school, grades 7,8 and 9, and high school was 10th, 11th, and 12th. When I started 10th grade most of my friends were seniors. Weekends were spent hanging out at someone’s house, preferably where someone’s parents had gone out for the night. I remember being more interested in where the party was for the weekend than what test I had that week.

My junior year my BFF and I were forced to make some new friends as the old gang had gone on to college. I don’t remember much about school itself other than I couldn’t wait to just get through it. I wasn’t interested in most of my classes, and by senior year I signed up to volunteer in an elementary school as a classroom aide for a few hours in the afternoon to get out of some of my classes. By the time graduation came I said good bye and never looked back. I didn’t keep in touch with anyone except my BFF.

Then 10 years passed and the reunion invitation came, so my BFF and I decided to go to see where people had ended up after 10 years.

Mugging for the camera before the 10th Reunion

Neither of us was married yet, though many of our former classmates were, and one was even divorced already. Two people had died, which was pretty shocking. Once again I said good bye and didn’t look back, until the invitation for the 20th reunion came and we decided to attend this one too. We figured that by now things would be a little more interesting-we were curious how people would look after 20 years, what they had “become”, what they had done with their lives.

20th Reunion

After 20 years some of my former classmates were unrecognizable. Shapes had changed, men had lost their hair. It was a wake up call that time was marching on. A bit disconcerting to say the least. 20 years had made a difference. It was a happy time in my life, I felt settled-married, enjoyed my job, felt I had “come into my own” but seeing all these people just made me feel old.

The 30th reunion was a giant bore, we came in took a look around and left after saying a few hellos.

By the time the 35th Reunion rolled around (now they seemed to be making them every five years instead of ten- maybe they thought time was running out for us)

35th Reunion

Facebook was in full swing, and many of us had reconnected and knew what was going on in each other’s lives. People I had little to do with in high school had become friends through Facebook. We were no longer the people we had been at 18, we had lived life, had changed, had grown. Two classmates were widowed already, many divorced. One had had a heart transplant. Ten had died. Some had faced health challenges, many of us were grandparents, while one man had just gotten married for the first time and then had a baby at age 55. Many conversations at the reunion were more than just superfluous conversation of where do you live and how many kids do you have, I remember talking with one man I had known since 2nd grade, discussing why he had chosen not to get married and what had happened. Personal sharing though it had been so many years, falling into some kind of comfort zone. Was it the shared history, or some unspoken bond we shared having known each other in childhood. Having grown up in the same neighborhoods, having the same point of reference that bound us together. We all seemed to be more sentimental about the past, remembering the funny times, not the angst, looking back through those rose colored glasses that seem to fit better as we all get older.

So now the 40th Reunion will take place in 2016 and Facebook has made it even easier to find more people this time around. In two days 187 people from our graduating class were found. I find myself clicking on the photos of people I haven’t seen since childhood, those who I don’t even remember seeing in High School but remember from grade school. Curious what they look like, what profession they are in. We are all frozen in time in a way, stuck in one another’s memory as 17 year olds, or even younger. I wonder what people remember about me, how they saw me then. I can barely remember the person I was then, what I was like. Old photos bear witness to the fun with friends, certain memorable times stand out in my mind, but little else. The uncertainty, the insecurity not caught on film, no longer part of who I am now. Will I surprise them by not being the person they remember? I still surprise myself sometimes when I think how far I have come, and hope I can continue to grow until reunion # 50 comes around.