The Reunion
Wednesday, September 23, 2009 I graduated from a small high school in Justin, Texas, 25 years ago. My parents moved from Arizona to Texas the summer between my sophomore and junior year. I was once again, the new girl. It really wasn't a bad thing, the moving.
The move prior to junior year was my third school change—not excessive in my opinion—and I'm thankful for the exposure to different states [Indiana, Arizona, Texas], the resulting close friendship I have with my brother, and the special friends and memories I've gained along the way. I feel the same about the moves I've made with Chris during the past 20 years. I've been enriched, not robbed, by the occasional move.
As a person who loves to write, I have a pile of experiences and observations to tap into and build upon. I feel grateful for the abundant material.
Because I didn't attend my high school for all four years, and I linked arms with a steady boyfriend shortly after arriving to Texas [a very good person who is happily married today], I don't have too many shared experiences outside of classroom time with my graduating class. As I made my way around my 25th high school reunion, happily hugging and greeting old friends and classmates, I wasn't surprised when a few of the kids didn't remember me. One guy, who I thought I knew fairly well because I was a lifeguard at our neighborhood pool, I knew his high school girlfriend, and my mother was friends with his mother, actually said, NICE TO MEET YOU! as he left the party Saturday night. I smiled and said, "Nice to see you again."
Another guy who dated one of my best friends, Vicki, didn't remember me at all. He was polite and conversational at the reunion. We chatted about my braces and I commented, "...it was either boobs or braces...". He said with a grin, "I think you made a mistake. Next time you have a choice like that, call me. You should have gone for the boobs." I enjoyed him, even though he doesn't have a clue who I am.
The reunion was good. There are a few people I didn't get to talk with enough. I assume others feel the same. It was impossible to touch everyone in one or two short evenings and feel satiated. We need a reunion week. Then again...maybe we don't.
I drove past my family's old house and places that held powerful memories. I was stirred, but not shaken.
I was able to spend time with a friend I used to lifeguard with—Lynn P. Carlson [the P. stands for pretty]. The day I arrived in Texas it rained. We were at a bar on that warm, muggy evening and Lynn was trying to remember the last name of a guy we both knew. She said, "Remember? He had frizzy hair." Then she looked at me and said, "No offense, Chrisy." I love Lynn P. Carlson. And again, not enough time.
[LPC is one of the few people who make me forget I have braces. She makes me THAT happy. Frizzy hair and all.]
It was great simply being with my girlfriends. Looking at clothes, giving each other honest feedback about appearances, thoughts, feelings, and life's problems. I talk on the phone frequently with these girls, but to feel them physically and share laughs was long overdue.
I sobbed as I sat in the airport waiting for my plane. I called Chris and told him how I felt. He was compassionate.
I arrived home after the kids were in bed Sunday evening. I went in their rooms and kissed them, even waking up my 4-year-old after Chris rolled his eyes and asked me not to—he'd been ornery earlier in the evening.
There's no place like home, and it's true that you can't go back...but I will return to the next reunion. Maybe with boobs... not braces.
Reader Comments (23)
The powers that organized my class's 20th reunion went all out. Of course, I went to a slightly bigger school. They had over 15 different events planned over the course of the weekend, so depending on your tastes there was something for everyone to do.
Me? I had to work. Sucked. But my old girlfriend, who is still a great friend, went, met a fellow classmate "again" and they are now happily married. So I guess something good can come from these really strange events . . .
I like your boobs.
I'm so glad you had fun with your girlfriends. You look so beautiful and happy!
Isn't kissing sleeping children the best thing ever?
XO
Beautiful.
But you couldn't get me to my high school reunion if you lured me there with a million dollar bill. But then, I never had amazing friends like yours. So happy you had a good trip and a successful reunion.
PS: Didn't you say you thought your hair was too light? I think it looks gorgey!PPS: Fake Boobs are highly overrated.
Great post!
I have such bad memories from my school that I have no desire to return.
Glad to hear that you enjoyed your reunion.
I loved "stirred, but not shaken"
And I agree... "stirred, not shaken" is fabulous! Want to teach my class how to write? :)
I'm so glad you had fun and were entertained by the men....that didn't remember you. LOSERS!
I skipped my 5 year high school reunion.
Sounds like a great weekend. I graduated in a class of 22 and I barely remember some of the people. :)
1.) We would've totally hung out in HS2.) It CAN'T have been 25 years ago, you could be like the cool senior who befriended the scared, oft-beaten-up freshman3.) Boobs-for-braces-commenter-guy? I want to punch him in the crotchal area so hard.
I have yet to attend any of my high school reunions, but I think the 30th will be it, 3 more years to go.
Teeth are the first thing I notice in someone, not boobs. Unless they're covering the person's entire neck area, then I might stare a little and think "how do you not tip over?". I love my small Bs and wouldn't change them for the world. No bra on hot days, sleeping on my stomach, normal tops fitting & easier to feel lumps... go little boobies!!