Class Reunions–A Mixed Bag

Fifty years ago, on May 28, 1974, I graduated from high school. Our reunion was this past weekend, and the thought that kept going through me head was “how did we get to this point so fast?”

Of course, it only seems fast when looking back. That’s what my parents used to tell me, but I had to reach this point on my own to understand it.

You may be wondering why I posted the photo of a research paper I did for Advanced Biology my senior year, but it is relevant because it is a part of the memories we shared. There were probably 350 or so in my class, and we had almost 100 in attendance at the main event Saturday night. Twenty-seven of us, though, showed up on Friday for a tour of our old high school with stops in important spaces to share stories. One of those stops was Mr. Stubblefield’s classroom, the teacher who had us do a 40-page research paper during one six weeks period of time. If you’re old enough, you remember typing on that lined-margin paper and having to use white-out or white tape for all those typing mistakes.

Ironically enough, my topic was the human eye. Some kind of preparation for what lay ahead for me maybe? Just think, when learning about the structure of the eye and the diseases affecting it, I had no idea I’d be legally blind due to myopic macular degeneration. Weird, huh?

Anyway, back to reunions. I think people who had unpleasant high school experiences resist going, and I understand why. People who were not close to classmates have no desire to go. And some people just don’t like looking back on the past. Reunions, then, are not for everyone, but even for those of us who enjoy them, they can be bittersweet.

Sweet because of reconnecting with classmates and old friends who helped make us become the adults we became. Bitter because of those we’ve lost and the obvious effects of aging. We’re no longer those young hopefuls with an exciting life ahead of us. We’r enow adults who have experienced loss of loved ones, health crises, broken relationships, and loss of dreams. For most, if not all, life has not turned out like we’d imagined.

That doesn’t mean life hasn’t been good to us, and for those who have had more than their fair share of adversity, they still manage to focus on the good instead of the bad. One of my classmates shared he has been near death four times, bad enough that the doctors told them to call in the family. But he pulled through each time. He told us all how blessed he is, how grateful he is, and how happy he was to be with all of us Saturday evening.

For those of us who moved away and seldom return to our former hometowns probably have a different perspective than those who have remained and changed along with the town and each other. I, along with many others, found ourselves hugging each other, even “school-only” acquaintances, as though we were long-lost friends. And in a way, we are.

Our class of 350 has lost almost eighty classmates. We no longer have concerns about things that don’t really matter, like social status, economic status, being “big man (girl) on campus,” or part of the in-crowd, however that is defined.

Instead we are united by common experiences, shared memories, and a common realization of how precious time together is, however brief.

To the ones who planned our wonderful reunion, thank you. A tremendous amount of planning and work created a special experience for us all.

And if you are undecided about attending your own, try it. The worst that can happen is you will not enjoy it, but you will never know until you try.