Forward to the Past

I have done something I did not think I would. My 50^th High School reunion is coming up. When this first arose, I got out my Yearbook, shook off the dust and paged through the class pictures (the mid-70’s was not pretty). Few of the pictures rung a bell, so I decided to skip it. But then the names of those attending started to trickle in and I realized that there were more folks that I wanted to see than I originally thought. So, I committed to go.

I am of mixed minds about this. I have not seen most of these people since graduation day. I do not have a clue where life has taken them. While there is some interest in finding out, to date I have been content to forego that pleasure. At this juncture is it anything more than random curiosity? Is that worth asking and answering the same questions repeatedly for four hours?

The are contradictory fears floating around as well. Will anyone recall who I am? Will I approach someone I want to catch up with only to have them stare at me blankly, glance surreptitiously at my nametag and then feign recollection until they can slink away? Will this confirm how invisible I was in high school?

Conversely, will they remember too much? I know I did and said stupid things back then. Who didn’t? Sadly, those are the memories that stick best in my mind. Are people going to look and me and ask, are you as big a clueless nerd as you were in 12^th grade?

Both fears are unfounded. People will remember me as I remember them. We all will be confronted with ghost-like wraiths that somehow have aged. There will be mutual sticker shock when we are faced with the reality of time passing. Yet reality will not eviscerate the younger spectre that we recall.

Nor will people remember the personal inanities that stick with me. We were all so self-absorbed in our teens that what each of us has retained will focus largely on ourselves, not others. Yes, we will recall general personality traits, but few specifics. My embarrassments will be mine to keep.

But what will we talk about? Once we get past where we live, and a brief synopsis of the last 50 years, what is left? It is unlikely that we indulge in deep explorations of life, love and the pursuit of happiness. I am not even sure that I would want to head down that route with someone that is barely beyond a stranger, even if the conversation heads in that direction.

Consequently, we are unlikely to get any sense as to how we have changed. The question itself presupposes that I discerned who anyone was back then. I cannot pretend that I was prescient. To the contrary, I have no doubt that I was oblivious. I took people as they came and really didn’t dig beneath how my classmates presented themselves. Heck, I am not even sure that I realized you could do that.   

It gets more complex because I am not sure if I can answer that question for myself. It is hard to reenter into that kid with a ready smile masking insecurity. At times I see him peeking through, and at others he seems left far behind. I know my horizons have expanded significantly since High School, but has the basic rugged concept of my personality (to paraphrase George Harrison in “A Hard Day’s Night”)? If my own development is vague, how can I possibly expect to recognize change in others, especially during a four-hour sprint where most of the time will be spent just trying to dredge up long lost, and probably best buried, memories.

The attendees are bound to leave the festivities with the same shallow impressions that we have retained for 50 years. We are likely to think, “That was nice”, and move quickly on, as we would with a mediocre movie. Little will be said that is memorable or sheds any light on who were then or are now.

My guess is that anyone reading this is thinking, “Lighten up Tom. It’s only a reunion.” No one in their right mind expects anything more than some chuckles at spotty recollections, and an occasional shock, both positive and negative, at what people did with their lives. And, of course, the mixed blessing of seeing how people have aged.

That is, undoubtedly, the right attitude. This is a lark. A brief window into the past that will blessedly be opaque. If all goes well there will be a few laughs, a few hugs, and a few shallow connections. Expecting anything else is both silly and simplistic.

I will try and walk in with that attitude. However, it will be a struggle. As the Indigo Girls intoned, “You know me, I take everything so seriously.” Part of me will want something more or at least will think that I do. In the end the best I can honestly hope for is that some memories, both good and bad, will be dredged up, and a long past element of my existence will be subjected to a tad more light. Frankly, that would be fine.