Lots of life changes since my last blog post. I’m not ready to write about most of them, but today I wanted to reflect on my Saturday night date with my husband. We attended the 40 Year Reunion of my high school class at the local KC Hall.
Our class graduated over 400 and more than 160 of us showed up to celebrate.
With FaceBook, there was probably a lot less squinting at little nametags with pictures of “how we looked then” to compare to the smiling faces in front of us, but I know I did my share of double takes and sure many did the same with me.
But wrinkles and varying changes in waistlines didn’t seem to matter once we placed the face with the memory. With little effort, that face was age 17 again.
It’s been 40 years since we all stepped to Pomp & Circumstance. We spoke softly and sadly of more than 40 of our classmates that were on the “Memorial Wall” of friends no longer with us. Almost all of us had experienced the loss of parents, spouses, or children, and so many things that happen within 40 years that changes the direction and focus of a life. Since there is not enough time during one Saturday evening 40 years later to share all those things that make us who we are now, we only had one choice: Dance.
Dance like we did after Friday night football games. Pose for silly pictures and hold onto each other like we saw each other yesterday and would see each other tomorrow. Dance like who we were in 1978.
I was proud to show off my handsome, sweet husband. My “Last Half Love” was the perfect escort to the craziness. He jumped up when needed for the perfect slow dance and manned the table and held the purse when I ran to reminisce with a familiar face.
It was wonderful to be able to share memories and friends with him. To feel that when I share a story from 40 years ago, now he has a connection to it, also. But most importantly, it was wonderful to have him there as a reminder of my life now.
I’m grateful for every face and memory at our class reunion. Forty years ago we each played a part in the other’s life. We shared the first steps on a path. Amazing to think we’ve been on our own paths for more than twice as long as we were on that path together.
Time seems to fly faster the older we get. I suppose that’s why so many of our school year memories stay with us. We were young and each and every event was new. Each and every memory runs clear and deep within us.
