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MUSKEGON HIGH SCHOOL REUNION 6/23/2008 4:37:32 PM
PERHAPS SIGNING BOOKS WILL BE A GOOD IDEA - MAYBE THAT WILL SAVE THE DAY. The Class Reunion
I didn't know him in high school; we were both busy working and didn't have much time for socializing. Besides, he was tall and skinny and wore big, black rimmed glasses. I dressed like a shop girl, not a student. Unless you were a cheerleader or athlete, my high school was a cold place.
Many years and many lives later, visiting my mom after the end of an intense relationship, she told me about the single man (she was quite certain of "single") who bought the little bungalow across the street. She said he was as handsome as a movie star. I didn't put much stock in Mother's definition of handsome, but I did observe him mowing the grass, shoulder muscles gleaming with sweat. She was wrong. I could tell from a distance that he was more of a Greek god than a movie star. Her opinions might be worth listening to after all.
Mother and I took evening walks. On one such excursion the neighbor was playing basketball in his driveway. My shy mother guides me into the driveway and strikes up a conversation that he was more than willing to continue. In fact, he asked if I'd like to go to dinner. His blue eyes pierced mine and his smile just melted any reservations I might have harbored. In that first conversation, I learned we were in the same graduating class.
In fact, we had both missed the recent high school reunion. It was held at a hall not more than a half mile from Mother's home. I thought about attending, but I didn't know anyone. How could that be much of a reunion? How could that be fun? He didn't go for similar reasons.
We had our own reunion that summer, through meteor showers and picnics and miniature golf. We found common interests and different values. We thoroughly enjoyed a special chemistry from discovering each other so many years past graduation, wondering if we were fulfilling a special destiny.
The summer ended; so did the romance. Mother was disappointed. She felt responsible for introducing us and then wondered if it was a mistake when the phone no longer rang and I started packing to move on with my own life. "No, Mom," I told her with a big hug, "you gave me a magical summer, a real class reunion. There is no better gift."
I have another reunion coming up in July. I'm much older but not necessarily wiser. I have published a novel, several short stories and have two more novels ready for a publisher. I've chosen to remain single at this point in my life, believing I used up my chances at love already. More would be a bonus.
Well, I've decided to attend the reunion. I may sit at a table by myself watching the athletes with their thinning gray hair and the cheerleaders with their attempts to hold onto youth with hair dye and a lift here and there acting like they are having a great time. Perhaps I'll meet someone unique and special with whom to share tales of life's agonies and ecstasies since graduation day. Wish me luck; I want to have fun.
