Those of you who read here regularly will remember my hand-wringing and lamenting over my upcoming 20 year (!!!) high school reunion.
I’d pretty much decided to go, especially when airfares from Richmond to Traverse City with one minor stop in Chi-town got down to around $250. That’s unheard of - I just assumed I’d have to drive up from Detroit which was highly unappealing to me. I’m trying to do the reunion quickly, sans family - fly up on a Friday afternoon, back home by Sunday evening. My old friend Tricia offered me luxurious accommodations at her house in Acme (plus I get to meet her son), and by renting a car I’d be able to drive aimlessly around the peninsula overloading on nostalgia and the smell of fresh lake water.
Recently there have been a lot of updates through Facebook about the reunion. Someone even put together a nifty little reunion site that allows you to RSVP and buy tickets in advance. It also has this weird “in memoriam” part. I clicked on it and realized it was a list of classmates who are “no longer with us”. I.e., deceased. And man, I was shocked.
First, the list was longer than my head thought it should be. We are all around 38. There are 9 people on that list. It just seems wrong. One of the names was of a girl who tormented me in Junior High (she would literally shove me across the hallway, trip me, or shriek with laughter at my clothing ensembles). Ironically enough, we ended up in remedial math together and got to be friendly. She ran with a rough crowd. When I tried to look up her senior picture, I realized she didn’t have one. I don’t think she had, um, a lot of family support - and senior pictures probably weren’t high on her family’s priorities. That math class had us sitting right next to each other, and eventually led to me helping her with all the tricks my dad taught me at home. We never talked outside of that class - my circle was separate and she would have probably had her butt kicked for talking to someone like me. We never talked about the cruelty that took place back in 7th grade, but she made eye contact one day and it was a very poignant apology.
I don’t know why she died. Some of the other names there shocked me - one was a really smart nerdy Olympics of the Mind type I used to talk to before high school. I sat there, looking at the list, mouth hanging open. I dug around for my yearbook and looked up the pictures of those I could find. I sent an email message to someone on the planning committee asking what happened to these people - she didn’t know either. I’m sending another email to someone on Facebook who seems to know everything about everyone.
Why do I need to know how they died? No idea. I guess I’m wondering what mix of car accidents, cancer, or drug abuse caused it. Although hell, it’s Northern Michigan - could be a snowmobile accident or deer hunting incident or just being buried alive in a pile of snow.
After dealing with all these morbid and freaked out thoughts, I went to the RSVP list to see who was coming so far. A lot of the people are not people I really knew well in high school. That sent me back to the hand-wringing and sighing, but Allison is going and again, how could I not go and see Tricia? I’m back on the “I’m going” side of the fence, though that could change again. I think I’ll fork over the extra $5 and buy tickets at the door instead of paying in advance. Makes it safer for me. It also makes me laugh because I am one of the least wishy-washy people I know, but for some reason, making this decision is very difficult.
On a much less morbid note, Mike and I went out with our neighbors last night. We both had babysitters and headed to Havana 59. Talk about a nostalgia-fest! We drove near my first “real” office space, the Jefferson Hotel where Mike and I were married, dinner where our unofficial after-wedding party took place, and dessert at Baker’s Crust, a staple of my business life with Jennifer. We get along great with our neighbors. He’s the most unassuming surgeon I know, and he and Mike get along very well. Havana specializes in, surprise, Cuban food, but the atmosphere is really why I love it. We got a table right by the cobblestone road leading past the farmer’s market in Shockoe Bottom. It was beautiful last night, breezy and warm, we all had adult beverages, and I managed to easily stick to WW-friendly items (vegetarian black bean soup, lime/cilantro dressing on a salad with fresh seared tuna). Then I ate an entire eclair at Baker’s Crust - it was so worth it! We were all home by 10, but going out reminded me that we should really do that more often. Unfortunately babysitters are expensive and unless my parents suddenly start loving night driving (doubtful), we will have to do it few and far between.
Today we spent the afternoon at the pool. I again lamented knowing so many attractive, bikini-clad 40+ year old women. Of course, I saw them all as I was getting out of the pool, hair in my face, the bottom part of my suit pulled almost off because Lily was trying to keep me from leaving by nearly de-trunking me. Sexy. Their kids are older, so they can go to the pool in their designer swimsuits (me = Land’s End), wearing cute little hats and reading trashy novels while I get repeatedly beaned in the eye by Arden’s splash ball. Seriously though - I have more fun.
