It is one day before my 40th high school reunion… did I say 40th? Ooo…..
It has been a week of looking in the mirror and seeing things differently. Noticing (even though I’ve been looking in mirrors every day for 40 years) that I didn’t have this chin in 1969. And the weight issue, well it’s a touchy one, even for blogs. I just hope no one drops their jaw and says, who did you say you were? There are other things to think about, like what should I wear? How do you prepare to spend an evening with people you knew from the ages of five to eighteen, when you’re all in your 6th decade now?
I’ve been coloring my hair for years, but if it was less than perfect it never bothered me before. Yet at a time like this, you only get one shot. You may not ever see these folks again! Do you want them to picture a spot of gray smack in the middle of the forehead every time they think of you from here on in?
This is getting annoying. Why go to a 40th reunion anyway? I ask myself. Won’t it be fun? I reply, to reconnect with some people you knew before the world shifted on its axis? Before so many realities changed, and the real world came crashing in on you without a hint of warning?
I’ve also spent some time this week looking through the old yearbook, and I see so many names and faces that I don’t remember. The question pops up in my mind, just how conscious was I in high school? Who are these people? Flipping the pages, running through names. Hmm. I think I remember her. She’s on the list and she’ll be there. Was I nice to her? I can only hope…
Maybe it would be better to just not go, rather than ruin my chances to live on in someone’s memory as a thin, sprightly young girl. Wait –there’s my censor. Haven’t you lived a life worth standing by, worth sharing… so many ups and downs, so many lessons, some disappointments and a million blessings along the way….After all, the wisdom I’ve gained didn’t always come easy, and I if I know anything, I know that a lifetime of experiences is a treasure worth more than everything else.
“Maybe you’ll fall in love,” says a well-intentioned, long distance friend. Well, I can’t afford to miss this if “maybe I’ll fall in love.” But I’m uncertain, I mean, what does romantic love at 58 look like? Because the only image I conjure up is that of two people who have been together for a very long time. Who know each other’s history. Now if it isn’t that, then what? A different kind of love? A “spiritual partnership?” I like the sound of those words, but this is oh so confusing….
I’ll go to my reunion. I’ll connect with some people, and we’ll share our paths and maybe, some lighthearted moments too. Perhaps a new friendship will come out of it, and maybe I’ll fall in love.
Ah, my mind wanders, what color lipstick should I wear? I mean, after all, I may not see many of these people again, and this could be my last impression...