Before going, I heard such comments as, "Don't miss it, You have to go, It will be fun." Well, I waited two days before posting to make sure I could count on my observations. You're issued a name tag with your high school graduation picture. If that isn't enough of a shock, you then meet some of your classmates. If you don't see the name tag you won't know who they are. Once you read the name tag, you still won't know who they are. Then what do you say? "You haven't changed. You look worse. I don't know who you are." My experience was the last comment, for the most part. Even worse, the people I recognized, didn't recognize me and vice versa. Normally, I would have gone straight to the bar, but since I am an alcoholic, I couldn't do that. That meant I had to deal with the anxiety. Luckily, I came with two friends I have stayed close to. We did make attempts to meet others and each of us had some success. What made matters worse, there were reunions of 10 other classes ranging from 10 to 50 years from our class going on simultaneously. Food consisted of cold hamburgers and salty chicken. Class pictures where we felt like we were being herded into a corral. We insisted we didn't look as old as the class ahead of us. (Sarcastically). To sum up, it was just another reminder that I'm getting older. We all are. No, you can't get away from it. But, I've always thought denial was a great coping mechanism. I still hold on to that. I may be 67, (reality sucks) but I feel 45 (sweet dreams). I probably won't see these guys again and what was the purpose. I did have some meaningful conversations with a few guys I did remember and who knows, we may keep in touch by telepathy. Phone numbers, e-mails or tweets were not exchanged.I may be the only person who feels this way and that's fine. The rest of you who feel compelled to go to these reunions, I suggest hitting the bar as soon as you can. |
No comments:
Post a Comment