20 Years, already?
I'm officially old.
A high school classmate e-mailed me yesterday to let me know she had received a "save the date" note regarding our 20-year, high school reunion. She figured I hadn't received one of my own since I've moved a lot and have changed my name since the last reunion, ten years ago.
I almost instantly replied to her e-mail, but I stopped myself. I then realized how drastically different my life is now than it was ten years ago when I attended - and helped organize - our last reunion. I can barely remember the girl who blissfully participated in all that planning and preparation so many moons ago.
Anyone who's ever been to a high school reunion knows what goes on at these shin-digs: Who's gained the most weight, whose hairline has receded the most, who's moved the furthest away, who's been married the most/longest, who's still single, who looks the youngest, who has passed away, who has the best job, who has the best children, and on the list goes. The popularity contest never truly ends when it comes to those people you were lumped together with so long ago.
But, I don't know that I can handle skipping down memory lane this time. I'm curious how many of my former classmates have been, of course, but I'm not prepared to handle those same types of questions being thrown at me and then seeing the horrified looks on their faces when I offer honest answers to their inquiries.
Yes, I got divorced from my first husband. Yes, I moved to Florida and then to North Carolina. (Those things almost make me seem trendy and chic, two things I definitely was not in high school.) But, then the line of questioning will eventually turn to the "so, how many children do you have?" question that's uttered countless times at high school reunions everywhere.
Struggling to answer that question once a month (on average) when presented by a stranger is torturous enough; I can't imagine how gut-wrenching it would feel being asked over and over again by prying and curious classmates. Sure, I could politely side-step answering or flat-out lie and say we have no children, which is technically true. But, I can't betray my beloved son that way. He deserves his due acknowledgement whenever the opportunity presents itself. But, if I say that we DID have a child, then that encourages the interrogator to probe further, and we all know exactly how that line of questioning will end.
Not even a simple social function like this is easy for me. All I worried about while prepping for the last reunion was how I looked and if I looked too chubby in my black dress or if I'd drunk too much. I'd love if that were the extent of my concerns this time around, but it's not.
Of course, I could go and just tell them I invented Post-Its. Has someone else sought acclaim in this manner as a means to impress their former classmates and it actually worked?
A high school classmate e-mailed me yesterday to let me know she had received a "save the date" note regarding our 20-year, high school reunion. She figured I hadn't received one of my own since I've moved a lot and have changed my name since the last reunion, ten years ago.
I almost instantly replied to her e-mail, but I stopped myself. I then realized how drastically different my life is now than it was ten years ago when I attended - and helped organize - our last reunion. I can barely remember the girl who blissfully participated in all that planning and preparation so many moons ago.
Anyone who's ever been to a high school reunion knows what goes on at these shin-digs: Who's gained the most weight, whose hairline has receded the most, who's moved the furthest away, who's been married the most/longest, who's still single, who looks the youngest, who has passed away, who has the best job, who has the best children, and on the list goes. The popularity contest never truly ends when it comes to those people you were lumped together with so long ago.
But, I don't know that I can handle skipping down memory lane this time. I'm curious how many of my former classmates have been, of course, but I'm not prepared to handle those same types of questions being thrown at me and then seeing the horrified looks on their faces when I offer honest answers to their inquiries.
Yes, I got divorced from my first husband. Yes, I moved to Florida and then to North Carolina. (Those things almost make me seem trendy and chic, two things I definitely was not in high school.) But, then the line of questioning will eventually turn to the "so, how many children do you have?" question that's uttered countless times at high school reunions everywhere.
Struggling to answer that question once a month (on average) when presented by a stranger is torturous enough; I can't imagine how gut-wrenching it would feel being asked over and over again by prying and curious classmates. Sure, I could politely side-step answering or flat-out lie and say we have no children, which is technically true. But, I can't betray my beloved son that way. He deserves his due acknowledgement whenever the opportunity presents itself. But, if I say that we DID have a child, then that encourages the interrogator to probe further, and we all know exactly how that line of questioning will end.
Not even a simple social function like this is easy for me. All I worried about while prepping for the last reunion was how I looked and if I looked too chubby in my black dress or if I'd drunk too much. I'd love if that were the extent of my concerns this time around, but it's not.
Of course, I could go and just tell them I invented Post-Its. Has someone else sought acclaim in this manner as a means to impress their former classmates and it actually worked?
posted by Sherry @ 2/13/2007 03:27:00 PM
2 Comments:
At February 20, 2007 11:43 PM,
Margaret said…
I say, go, have as good a time as you can, and proudly tell the world Ryan's story.
As for the post it notes thing, well, I never thought about saying that...hmmmm....might have to use that at MY 20 year reunion this summer.
At March 02, 2007 4:06 PM,
Ann Howell said…
I was Class of '87, too, and I've pretty much decided against going to my reunion, precisely for the reasons you describe. Most of my classmates still live within 10 miles of our hometown, and child rearing is going to be a hot topic. I just cannot bear spending an evening repeating my "sad story".
If you do go, though, I agree with Margaret -- be out and proud about Ryan! I promise I'll do the same if I ever have a change of heart about going to mine. United we stand!
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