Class Reunion

My boys laughed at the picture on the refrigerator just as I knew they would. It had served as my nametag at my class reunion the night before and the picture on it was of me during my senior year in high school. I traveled to my hometown of Cherryville to attend the reunion of the classes of ‘80-‘83 recently. My cousin and I spared our non-native wives the unpleasant experience of attending our reunion and went as a couple. It worked out well though the folks taking up money at the front desk refused to give us the price break we felt we were entitled. Let me make it clear first off that I love my classmates and I will always feel a special bond with them. But reunions remind us of stuff that happened that we would rather not remember. Like my experience at the Fair in the sixth grade. There was a whole group of us and the expectation was that the boys would kiss their girlfriends while in the little cart inside the haunted house ride. Due to mass confusion at the entrance, I ended up in a cart with a boy I barely knew who had not at that point in his life showed any interest in girls. Luckily there was no kissing in the Spooky House that night but I saw him at the class reunion and it’s possible he’s still not interested in girls. Reunions also remind us of how the aging process affects humans. Most of us guys have less hair on our heads now and more protruding from our ears. And I suspect some of the girls get their hair dyed to cover up some gray, but I could be wrong. You can tell right away at a small town reunion which girls married guys from home and which ones married out of town. Those who married outside instead of within have funny last names that can be difficult to pronounce. Reunions remind us about the affects of alcohol. As the night wore on, some of the folks who had been hanging out in the bar area started bear-hugging folks and saying “I love you” to most anyone they encountered. One guy (not the one from the Fair) even kissed me on the cheek, despite the fact I’m not sure we’ve ever had a meaningful conversation. For the record, he is married. To a woman. But reunions, I think, remind us most of all about the choices we have made in life. What professions we pursued. Who we chose to marry. What things we consider significant in life. My choices have been far from perfect but as I drove home from the class reunion, I whispered a prayer of thanks to God. Thankful that I’ve grown in so many ways since 1982. Thankful that I wouldn’t trade my wife or kids for anybody else’s wife or kids in the whole world. Thankful that the boy on the Spooky House ride stayed on his side of the cart at the Fair thirty-four years ago. The young man on the refrigerator will always be a part of who I am. But even though he had much more hair than me, I wouldn’t trade places with him. I certainly treasure the past, but to be honest, I love the now.