20 Years Later

Two weekends ago, while Keri was crankily awaiting Molly's overdue arrival, I was at my 20th high school reunion (yes, Keri gave me permission to go, knowing that might necessitate my missing Molly's birth - and yes, I understand that, should I have missed the birth, Keri would have made me feel guilty about it the rest of my life, but I went anyway. I still ended up missing the birth the following Tuesday, incidentally, because the freakin' nurses kept me in the waiting room while Keri was "getting an epidural," when what they really meant was, "birthing the baby at that exact moment." But at least she can't be mad at me for that.)

The reunion was amazing. It's funny how potent those old relationships can be, how resilient. I saw friends I hadn't seen in ten years (since the last reunion), and when we all got together for dinner the night before the reunion, it took about five minutes before it felt like we were back in high school.

Back in high school with important jobs, spouses, and about 14 kids between us.

It's interesting . . . I think for the past year I've been feeling pretty depressed about getting old. Forty is fast approaching (two years away), and I've been spending a lot of time wondering if people pass the second halves of their lives watching the clock tick down and thinking about everything they thought they would have accomplished by now.

But the reunion didn't make me feel old. It made me feel energized. It made me want to track down everyone who had been once been important in my life and catch up. So I started by finding two old friends who had missed the reunion, and had great conversations with them - hopefully, we'll get together sometime this summer.

I could make some kind of crazy resolution to contact one of those old friends each day, but I know myself, and I know that any project requiring consistent follow-through is doomed to failure. Still, I hope to get through my list. Because what I've learned is that, for me, there are few things as revitalizing as feeling a lifetime of relationships tighten around me like a net rising out of the water.