This past week I got a FB message from a bunch of my middle child's friends who were planning their twenty fifth class reunion. Holy smoke!!! My child has been out of high school a quarter of a century. How could that be true?
It caused me to think about a bunch of seniors at my old alma mater, of which I was one of the class of 1966. We were the class that would go forward and set the world on fire with ambition and determination.
We went to our five year class reunion. We had the matches lit and a little bit of determination left. The most intelligent kids in the classroom still got stars in their eyes when the word President was mentioned as they got visions of the White House in their smart little minds. Some of us had gotten married right after high school and we could attest that Happy Ever After only happened with a heck of a lot of work and more determination that we could muster up with a hyperactive three year old child under our feet.
Then there was the ten year class reunion. The match was burning a lot slower and we did think about determination every so often. Some of those with high IQ's were still thinking about saving the world. The rest of us were paying the orthodontist to straighten the oldest child's teeth. The middle child was in first grade and we were happy that the youngest was potty trained. Most of us showed up with ten extra pounds and more folks than me (who had grayed prematurely) had a gray hair or two.
When the letter came about the fifteenth reunion, I thought they were crazy! It hadn't been that long since we'd all brought chips and dip and chocolate chip cookies to the tenth reunion. I couldn't find the match that we were going to set the world on fire with? We had teenagers in the house, a mortgage payment and no one could remember if the valedictorian of our senior class raised Duroc hogs or if he was creating a rocket to fly to Mars.
The next five years were a blur and time to go to another reunion. Wasn't there something back when we started these things about setting the world on fire? Or was it something that long-winded speaker said while we suffocated under those caps and gowns. Oh, well, who could remember that far back anyway and who cared? We had kids about to go away to college and if the world needed saving, they could find the box of misplaced matches and take care of it. We were just barely coping with teenagers, puberty, menopause and middle aged crazies all under one roof. The women in the class had stopped trying to loose that ten pounds we'd each gained and the guys had given up trying to suck in that spare tire around their middle.
Then it was our twenty fifth and we had grandchildren. We thought about how energetic we'd been back then--with a smile! We weren't brain surgeons, corporate lawyers or rocket scientists. Most of us were groaning because we hadn't bought stock in Lady Clairol and the Geritol companies.
My daughter's class is planning their twenty fifth this years. I could tell them what to expect next but what's the fun in that? I'll let them figure out if they even want to find the matches anymore. The class of 1966 will have a reunion next year. I imagine that we'll just be glad to walk up to the doors without walkers or wheelchairs!