Do I sense a big wave of nostalgia these days? New and remade TV shows and movies that take place in the 1950's and '60's. Or do I feel the wave because I’m celebrating my 50th high school reunion? Well, to be honest, no one is actually organizing said reunion, but suddenly there has been a flurry of activity on classmates.com. And a few people I haven’t been in touch with in 50 or 60 years have reached out to me—and I to them. I’ve been emailing with four friends I first went to school with in kindergarten. One of them was my very first love. Oh how sweet. And we were boyfriend/girlfriend from first through sixth grade (she went to a different junior high and we never reconnected until last month). Another of these friends sent me a photo of our fifth grade class. Amazingly he and I could both remember every one of those kids. And both of us were able to put names with the faces. Hell, neither of us can remember what we had for lunch, but we remembered all 30 kids. Zoe, my true love from those elementary school years was in the picture and my wife of 36 years thought Zoe was the prettiest girl in the class. “Well, naturally,” I said. “I’ve always had the best taste.” (That’s why I’m still happily married after 36 years).
Recognizing that it’s been 50 years since I attended high school is definitely a milestone. And it gave me pause to think. Where am I going? What’s next? What’s it all about? Whatever happened to that crazy kid standing in the back of the room in my fifth grade picture? Oh wait, that’s me. I know what happened. 57 years happened. And, just as my parents and grandparents used to say, “Where did the years go?” It was just the other day when I was smooching my first love on the cheek on our way to recess (Zoe smooched me back so it was mutual). When we had air raid drills and hid under the desks to protect ourselves in case of bombs, I’d see her scrunching up too. And I wanted to be next to her so we could die together. The notes we wrote in each other’s autograph books in 6th grade were filled with longing to be together and promises that we’d meet again in high school. Our love was endless and we had our whole lives ahead of us. Reconnecting with her and the other classmates is special.
But the other day I found out that a good friend from just a few years ago died. It happened quickly from pancreatic cancer, the same disease that took my mother 40 years ago. And a dear, dear friend is suffering from a different cancer. I’ve now hit double digits when it comes to the number of peers who have died. These people are not from the older generation, but my friends, my contemporaries.
So there’s nothing wrong with holding on. Or with looking back at those fresh fifth grade faces with lifetimes ahead of them. It’s a great thing to do. It reaffirms how wonderful my life has been. When your wife can agree that your first love was the prettiest girl in your class, you know you’ve had it good.
Recognizing that it’s been 50 years since I attended high school is definitely a milestone. And it gave me pause to think. Where am I going? What’s next? What’s it all about? Whatever happened to that crazy kid standing in the back of the room in my fifth grade picture? Oh wait, that’s me. I know what happened. 57 years happened. And, just as my parents and grandparents used to say, “Where did the years go?” It was just the other day when I was smooching my first love on the cheek on our way to recess (Zoe smooched me back so it was mutual). When we had air raid drills and hid under the desks to protect ourselves in case of bombs, I’d see her scrunching up too. And I wanted to be next to her so we could die together. The notes we wrote in each other’s autograph books in 6th grade were filled with longing to be together and promises that we’d meet again in high school. Our love was endless and we had our whole lives ahead of us. Reconnecting with her and the other classmates is special.
But the other day I found out that a good friend from just a few years ago died. It happened quickly from pancreatic cancer, the same disease that took my mother 40 years ago. And a dear, dear friend is suffering from a different cancer. I’ve now hit double digits when it comes to the number of peers who have died. These people are not from the older generation, but my friends, my contemporaries.
So there’s nothing wrong with holding on. Or with looking back at those fresh fifth grade faces with lifetimes ahead of them. It’s a great thing to do. It reaffirms how wonderful my life has been. When your wife can agree that your first love was the prettiest girl in your class, you know you’ve had it good.
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