Last night, a group of us from my high school class gathered to reminisce, dine and co-celebrate (for most of us) our ‘Big 6-0“. This is the year the class of ‘68 turns 60 and there were many at the party who hadn’t seen each other since high school graduation. It was a fun evening; we owe a heap of gratitude to the diligent organizers who tracked people down, followed leads when someone had an idea of how someone else could be found, made cold-calls based on Canada 4-1-1 searches etc. Having everyone submit a page for a booklet telling how they’ve spent the last 40 years was a nice touch, as was the organization to facilitate having copies of the group photo taken a 6:00PM available for all of us by 7:00PM.
It was fun to see how some of the faces have changed, and how little others had; how many had turned out just about as we would have expected in high school; how much we still have in common from spending five years together in a small town high school; who had married whom. A large part of the group had been together since kindergarten (I am not part of that esteemed circle) making it an even more remarkable event.
On the way home, Frankie remarked how successful we all seem to have been in our lives. I assured him, we always were an above average bunch; a fact our teachers and principal reminded us of repeatedly <blush inserted here> . And as one classmate put it, ”I’m sure at least half of what you wrote about your success, like my story, is true.“ Reunions are a not a time for dwelling on the dreams left un-accomplished, but we really have done some interesting and worthwhile things.
We celebrated what we’ve done, that we are for the most part healthy and that we are entering our seventh decade, retired or on the verge thereof, and that we are ready to prove life begins at 60. Maybe we can do it again at 75.
