Recently, my long-since-closed high school had an “all years” reunion for anyone who had ever attended it. This is the second year they’ve done this, and my husband and I went. Back when he had golden curls and I had hair down to my waist, we met there.
I hoped more people I knew would be there. A couple weeks ago, I posted about it on Facebook. When I asked one person if she were going, she said no. “I don’t want anyone to know how fat I am, and that I’m a failure.”
I was stunned. She's one of the best people I know. “How are you a failure?”
Basically, she hasn’t written a best-selling novel, invented anything, nor cured cancer.
“Neither has anyone else,” I said. “And we've all passed through just as many years.”
I have worried about similar things, too, in the past. Well, okay, and now, somewhat. My overall experiences with reunions, though, is that no one’s judging—they’re just glad to see you. Everyone has grown up, and it’s not like when you couldn’t say hi in the hall to one of the cool kids.
At least, not with the high school I attended, which was not snooty. You didn’t have to have a hot-shot dad who made a lot of money to be someone at our school. I liked that so much about our school that I bought my first house inside its boundaries, so my kids could go there. Then, they closed it down.
So, Mark and I went to the reunion, and we comprised forty percent of those who attended from our class. I wish there had been more than five, but I did meet some people who grew up in my same neighborhood. They had been older than me, but I remembered some of them. I really appreciate knowing the things they told me. Like, that my sister, Linda, had played the violin so well that she had been idolized her for her talent. I had known she had played, but I didn’t know she was that good. In fact, I don’t remember ever hearing her play.
One older guy that I do remember told me he has a twin that I was never aware of!
Even though we only saw two people who had actually been my friends, I enjoyed myself and was enriched by talking with people. Given that I now read with old-lady readers, it was harder to read their name tags as I passed them than it was to strike up conversations. That’s what I’d like people to know about attending a reunion. And I do wish more people would give it a try.
There were tons of people there from my sister’s class--too many for it to have been random. When I got home and looked at Facebook again, I saw that one woman from that year had posted, calling out her class: “Be there or be square. We are all old and fat.”
Amen. Just go. No one cares about what you think they would care about. But I bet they'd sure like to see you again, or meet you for the first time.
