Hail to the Class of ’67

Fifty-five years is a long time. Could any of us in the Class of ’67 have imagined that 55 years later we would be gathering to reflect, tell stories, mourn those who passed, talk about our families, and marvel at the years gone by?

My high school class was typical of a small rural midwestern town. Everyone knew everyone. Secrets were well hidden. Cliques existed but we interacted with everyone. Many of us had been classmates since kindergarten.

I have gone to every class reunion since we started having them in 5-year increments. I am a reunion junkie. I make them a priority. I keep up regularly with a few classmates. The Facebook connections have helped maintain additional contacts.

The capable and caring event planner for many of the class reunions over the years is my good friend, Nancy. For this reunion, she put together posters of some of the highlights from previous reunions. Several observations were evident to me.

Change over the years reflected typical life stages. Not much had changed after the first five years except people who had gone to college had graduated and everyone was starting their careers whether as teachers or as farmers.

Twenty years marked the celebration of parenting and people feeling successful in their chosen occupations. The pride folks had of their grandchildren and maturation of their work endeavors was evident at the 40-year mark. This year’s reunion marked retirement for most people, but also suggested the inevitability of mortality.

From a graduating class of 40+, eight people are gone including three who passed since the last reunion. We honored their memories. I fear that we will venerate more of our peers in the coming years.

I am lucky because my parents lived into their 90s. This class reunion, however, was the first one without my mom. She was our 6^th grade Science teacher so knew many of my classmates as well as had been friends with their parents. I missed not spending the day after the reunion telling her all about the reunion activities and the conversations I had.

Regardless of the years, most people have similar personalities as in high school. We evolve over time, but high school leaves a permanent imprint.  Those quiet folks remain that way. The leaders during high school stand out. Although most times I am not concerned about my appearance, I felt I was thrown back to high school as I perseverated over what to wear to the reunion. I felt like a teenager going to the homecoming dance as my 17-year-old’s anxiety emerged.

I wish we had more time to visit at the reunion. I want to know what brings people joy today. I want to know how they have been resilient over the years. I am grateful, however, for 55 years of knowing these people. It will never be enough.