The Class Reunion: I'm Not Going

I never thought I’d do this, but I am skipping my high school class reunion.

And you know what? It's not because I've got something to hide, 10 pounds to lose or big, conflicting plans that weekend. Sure, I can always improve, and I'd love a makeover. (Wouldn't we all?) I'm a mom who's doing what she can to keep her mojo—three kids and a and all—but I'm just not feeling the reunion this time around.

I loved high school. I enjoyed it all—the excitement and challenges, the anxiety and stresses. I was active in student government, a member a ton of clubs, a peer counselor and co-captain of the cheerleading squad. I had friends in different groups but, like most teens, I fell into one group I was comfortable with and spent most of my time with them. After the hell that was my middle school experience, I embraced all that high school had to offer and was ready for a positive change.

So, yes, I would love to catch up with that guy I went to nursery school with, sweated through our parish's CCD with and sat through four years of homeroom with just because our last names both began with “K.” We shared a ton of time together and I'd like to know what he's up to.

I’d like to see those people who marched with me in middle school band but lost touch with me when we went our separate ways in high school. With no musical talent myself, I looked forward to our band's field shows and concerts. They were so awesome and so, so gifted. Are they still playing music now?

I’m curious about those friends with whom I ran laps on the upstairs track in P.E. and complained and moaned with on swim days, making us re-do our previously perfect bangs. Where have they settled? Do they have children? Will their kids run laps on the same track that we did?

I would like to catch a glimpse of the people I passed every day in the halls and wonder if I’d recognize them or would remember their names. I wonder if they would remember me. How do you greet someone you saw nearly every day of your 12-year school career but still hardly knew? Does this shared time make us automatic friends, 15 years later?

The girls who started a fight—a serious, full-out fistfight—with one of my fellow cheerleaders (hold the snickers ...) and with whom I ended up throwing punches alongside (no joke, and content for another post ...)—would we greet each other as pals after all this time and after our weeks and weeks of mediation meetings our senior year? Might we laugh a little over a drink or two together? I wonder.

The friends who were with me on our first trips up to Lehigh or Moravian when we crashed keg parties and posed as college freshman from other schools—I’d love to see them in person and joke about how stupid we were way back when and how, if we found out our 17-year old daughters did the same, we’d lose our minds.

My soccer teammates, my secret-psycher friends, the girls I sweated with on the field and cheered for after they moved onto varsity and then played in college. Are they still in incredible shape? Are they still chasing a soccer ball or are they running after little kids like me?

I would love to see the very first boy I kissed. I’d love to talk to my very first crush. And I can’t forget about the guy who always made me blush when he spoke Spanish to me on the phone late at night. How are they and what are they doing?

I wonder if I’d see my first real boyfriend, chat with his wife and children and look at him with totally different eyes this time, as a very dear old friend and not the man who at one time I thought I’d marry. How would I greet this person with whom I shared four years of my life, so many firsts and a huge part of my heart?

It’s my 15th reunion and there are some people I’d really love to see, but there are also a bunch of people I have already reconnected with on Facebook in the last few years. With the endless updates, photo albums and information posted there, it’s kind of like we’ve never left high school in some ways.

So what does it mean, that I'm skipping my reunion? That I didn't care after all—or that I don't care now? Or does it just mean that I'm at a different point, a point where I'd rather focus on my current life than on my life way back when?

I'm still not sure, but I know this to be true: I think I’ll catch up on reunion gossip through Facebook this time and see everyone in person for our 20th.