Together Again!

When I finished high school, I never imagined I’d go back. The few fragile friendships I’d developed disintegrated, real life happened and time passed. The wounds, however, remained. All the petty grievances I’d experienced via insecurity and careless gossip had done their damage. Needless to say, I remember fleeing the school grounds with a kind of euphoria born from the knowledge that I would never, ever have to see those people again.

I stayed in touch with those who were real friends and forged ahead with my life, trying not to think about the hurt feelings and silly sorrows of my childhood. Still, they clung to my heart like a milky film–not readily visible, but nevertheless, present. I even had a recurring nightmare for years in which I was back in class and feeling the pressure to complete schoolwork–knowing I had already graduated and wondering why on earth I had to go back. My addled brain refused to let go of the people who had made such an impression on me in my younger years and the wounds we had inflicted.

When I heard there was to be a 10 year reunion, I balked. Who in their right mind would go to that? Back then High school reunions struck me as a waste of time. I shrugged off any nostalgic pangs and moved forward, even as I quietly wondered who was there and what they were talking about. So when I heard about the 20 year reunion, I was ecstatic. I had this idea that since I had lost the weight, I wanted to go back and revisit some of those relationships. Initially, I wanted to prove I was worthy of being liked and accepted by those who had rejected me back then. Also, many of the people who circles I frequented were planning to attend and I really wanted to re-connect. Long story short, I went, and I had the time of my life.

I learned that many of the perceptions I had of others were actually my feelings projected onto them. I learned that I was liked, not ugly, and singularly valued. Also, quite astonishingly, I made new friends–people I never knew in school the first time around. I left with such a sense of well-being and peace that I was genuinely excited about the next one.

This past weekend I attended my 25th high school reunion. The organizers planned it so beautifully with a mixer at a local sports bar Friday evening, and a family friendly BBQ potluck on Saturday. The reunion concluded with food and drinks at an up-scale restaurant after the outdoor shindig. We were all exhausted and feeling our age but we talked, laughed and surprisingly–did not reminisce. Maybe I am alone in this regard, but I don’t recall really talking about high school at all. It was quite simply, awesome fun.

As I reflect on the conversations with friends, both new and old, I find myself satisfied in my soul. We shared stories, complained about the current administration, and talked about our children. One jolly fellow said what we were all thinking, “some of us looked like we could be on the cover of GQ magazine but others have not aged as well. I had to laugh at that. Does anyone really age well? If I looked half as bad as I feel most of the time, no one could bear the site of me.

The song “Glory Days” by Bruce Springsteen keeps rumbling through my thoughts even though it doesn’t really apply to me. I don’t feel I have any glory days to recall. I really only remember angst, self-conscious primping, and pimples. Oh, and passing biology class(though I had to go to summer school to do that–thanks Sean!). For many years school was something I merely survived, but now I’m starting to realize the significance of those time-tested relationships. The people who were present while we were young have a different perspective of us than we do of ourselves and its important. If we listen well (as I tried to do this weekend) we will learn that we were not exactly who we thought we were. We will learn that we were liked, and maybe even loved. We will learn that we made an impact. We encouraged and inspired. We even helped people achieve their dreams(like John who pursued soccer simply because Liv asked him to participate). I was amazed by the stories and humble accounts of each person I spoke with. We are all on the journey together experiencing this thing called life. We have all lost our innocence in one way or another, and it was very healing(at least for me) to come together and ruminate on what matters most of all; friendship.

I realize now that when I was younger I mostly mis-characterized many of the other people I attended high school with–not only because I was obtuse(though I was), but because I was more worried about what they thought about me. And maybe this is the best part of maturing… I’ve been given the greatest gift of all; a do-over. Those who were brave enough to come and face their insecurities and fears met on common ground and simply got to know each other again. Somehow in the process of sharing stories both sad and glad, we came to see we are–after all–only human. We may not agree or even sympathize in some respects, but we can acknowledge that regardless of our differences, we all have the capacity to love. I for one find that very cathartic.

Until next time, fellow Hawks!

On May 7, 2017   /   The Journey   /   1 Comment