High School Reunion
I went to mine last week. Feel free to guess how many decades it’s been. I’m not gonna lie but I’m not gonna say. Cuz you know what happens when you lie. More on that later. One thing’s for sure I couldn’t fool any of my classmates cuz we all graduated together. 😬
The nostalgia was palpable. It’s overwhelming to think about how many years have passed. Yet I remember my locker combination. 27-15-11. I wonder if it’s still the same. I wonder if there are combinations on lockers now or if they open with facial recognition.
Speaking of faces, some of my classmates were clearly recognizable. But let’s face it (no pun) most of our bodies have morphed. We swell. Hair thins. Heads sit slightly farther forward on our bodies than they used to. I remind myself to stand up straight.
That said a couple of my classmates absolutely look better than they looked back then. Fit, confident. They must drink a lot of water. Enjoy a martini. Or two. Have good values, good sex, genes! And luck. Smiles help. They really do. I think Peggy even wrote something about that under her graduation picture. (Because of course, when I got home, I bee-lined for my yearbook.)
Some of us can still bust a move. 😎
While I couldn’t talk to everyone who came to the reunion I had some quality catchups and made mini reconnections. How familiar it felt to be with these people. High School is your tribe. At least one of them. And that never changes.
I talked to Michael — the Perchick to my Hodel in Fiddler on the Roof. I talked to John who worked at the pharmacy next to the Grand Union where I was a cashier. I should have gone to Prom with him. He turned out handsome, energetic and optimistic. More-so than me. And the loveliest of wives!
The names were read of those no longer with us. Some passings I already knew about. But some were a shock to my heart.
Ellen — who was hit by a drunk driver her first year out of high school.
Charlie — who ripped the grass out of the ground in my yard in seventh grade when I could not reciprocate his crush.
Nancy — my friend and fellow cheerleader who we lost to breast cancer not too long after we graduated.
Robby and Mary — my neighborhood pals. Right around the corner! Just fuck.
But Deborah Gibbons! That was a shocker. She was such a sweet one, filled with light and positivity and cheer. And I’ve been thinking about her lately because…
As some of you may know I’ve been attempting to write a novel about a young girl coming of age in the music business and at one point a friend tells her that she should always tell the truth because if you tell the truth, you’ll never be caught in a lie. You never have to backtrack later, trying to remember what you said.
A very simple idea. Debbie was talking about it during a cheerleading practice one day. I can’t remember the context. I mean…decades = blurry. But it was one of those things that stick with you. I’m not going to say I never lie. I do! But I think of her when I do 😳 as in — this can get you in trouble. And sometimes it does!
After the party when I plopped myself onto my hotel bed and turned off the light, I cried. You know — the kind of tears you didn’t know were coming but there they were — warm out-of-your eyes and down your cheeks. Perhaps they were not all for Debbie but for everyone on that list who is gone and of course the ‘unfathomability’ of the swiftness of time passing.
I’d like to reach out to Deborah’s children (if she has any — idk ) or her family and let them know that all these years that conversation still reverberates. She gifted me this wisdom.
My life is very fluid and creatively fertile. I pray it continues because it makes me feel deceptively ageless. But I’m not. This I know. Life is like musical chairs. One day the music stops and there isn’t a chair for you. I don’t mean to sound morbid, I’m just … well .;.. reunions.
May we all impart little bits of wisdom on other souls while going through this journey. It makes a difference. People need people. Remember to smile. Hug a stranger. Deborah would have. I’m sure of it.
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