Where is it possible to find a whole bunch of people exactly one’s own age? A high school reunion, that’s where.
I don’t know what sends me back to these gatherings every ten years, but at this one, my 40th, I took a more proactive role organizing a “nostalgia room” that turned into a nostalgia corner. I took my old scrapbook of mementos and photos and asked other classmates to bring theirs. My sister-in-law, who was in my class, had all the yearbooks and we ran “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” on a VCR to remind us of that era.
I think I was looking for my old self, the one I started with so many years ago, when everything was ahead and possibilities were unlimited. There is something about the age I am now, my late 50s, that needs a little of that optimism. This is a time in my life where everything I wanted to do has been done. I’ve had a family, I have loved, I’ve had a successful career (or two or three), I’ve traveled and lived in diverse places and made so many good friends in all those places I can’t keep up with them.
I was curious if any of my old classmates were also at this crossroads, for that is what it feels like. It seems like there are some choices here– to rest on one’s laurels or to set a new course of some kind.
When I was in my 30s and 40s I always had a plan “B,” what I would do if what was presently going on fell apart. Sometimes I even had a plan “C” and “D.” One of my plans was to join the Peace Corps. I still keep this as a possibility, especially after ex-president Jimmy Carter’s mother set the example by joining the Peace Corps at an advanced age.
Maybe this is a hint about what this stage in life is about—a quest for meaning.
As I spoke with classmates at the reunion, I was most interested in those who are pursuing spiritual lives. The somewhat shy and sweet boy I talked into asking me to the junior prom (since I had broken up with a boyfriend) was now a Methodist minister. And a bright and funny high school girlfriend had gone to Harvard Divinity School within the last 10 years and was now a Unitarian minister. This fascinated me, although as I talked to her I realized her life had just as many issues and problems as my own. Most of the people were beyond bragging about careers, money and children.
I always wonder what brings people back – and what about the ones who don’t come back? I loved some of the stories about them. One boy who had hung out with our group was now a fly-fishing guide in Washington state and had been for years. I wish I could have talked to him.
And then there are those who will never be coming back. There is nothing more chilling than seeing a list of classmates who died. The hardworking people who organized my reunion took advantage of the quick communication of the internet to track down people and at the same time pull together a list of those who died, including, when it was known, the cause. Most died from heart attacks and cancer, one murder, some unusual diseases and many unknown.
When I drove away from the town in South Dakota where I went to high school I knew there would be those who wouldn’t make it back next time. Who would they be, I wondered? And it is a possibility, of course, that one of them could be me.
There’s the rub.
And from it comes a motivation to really live during the time I have left. No time anymore for nonsense fears and doubts. Full speed ahead with plan “A” (whatever that is).
Maybe a re-acquaintance from the reunion said it best in an e-mail to me: “Just keep going, hope for the best and expect the worst. Except as relates to my kids, there are no emergencies in my life and I hate it when others think there are. Main thing is not to panic over anything, which leaves you in a good position to get through most anything, except, that is, if your time is up.”
A good philosophy, I think, even when one’s time is up.
August 3, 2002