Caught in a time warp

The first high school class reunion Grandma Bene went to was her 50th--not because she was avoiding them, but because circumstances prevented her from attending. I talked to Grandma Bene the day after the reunion, and she said she had a good time, "...but there were a lot of old people there." I guess after 50 years, no one looked 18 anymore!

Grandpa Charlie was my date for my 40th (EEEK!) high school class reunion on August 18th. As a math teacher of nearly everyone in my graduating class, Dad talked to even more people than I did that evening.

For two years Mary Ann and Eileen, the reunion planners, were in touch with classmates, sending email addresses, requests for photos, and reminders. Although I read the information they sent with interest, I didn’t have much enthusiasm for actually going to the reunion. But because the planners invited our former teachers, I couldn’t let Grandpa Charlie get stuck explaining why I wasn’t there without carrying guilt with me for the remainder of my days. And nights. And weekends.

Despite having to talk myself into going to the reunion, the evening was surprisingly enjoyable for both Dad and me. One of the most revealing moments of the evening came when Don Kerkhoff, my 8th grade Social Studies teacher, sat down to talk. Around 1970, Don and his wife Sandy moved to Mankato where they taught until retirement. I made some comment about how being 58 makes me look forward to retirement, too. Don looked startled, then said, “You’re 58?” I laughed and told him that everyone in my graduating class is at least 58, since we all graduated in 1967. Did he think we were still in our 30’s?! And how old does he think he is?

The last reunion I went to was 20 years ago, when we were still self-conscious about nearly everything in our lives. Now, in our late 50’s, no one give’s a rat’s ass about impressing anyone. Lots of reminiscing, laughing, catching up…and not as much drinking as 20 years ago!

No pictures yet from the reunion, but this one of my kindergarten class (thanks to Cindy Satre for sharing it) is a reminder to me of how time flies. I was five years old...and I was in kindergarten over half a century ago! I'm the geek with her tongue sticking out, and the stylish scarf.