Tonight I went with my sister to her 35th reunion. Same place as my 36th reunion (Merchant Marine Academy), same high school, different class. People came from all over the country to reconnect.
It was really nice, but something was missing. Even though I knew a lot of people, it's just different when it's your own class. We could have mingled more. I didn't see everyone who was there. But still, nice.
There's the universal move as you lean over and read the person's nametag, go "Oh, (name)!" and wait as they lean over to do the same to you. Usually you end up shaking hands or hugging even if they have no idea who you are. My sister and I went around as a team, for the most part.
We saw my orthodontist's son and I complained that my teeth had gone back out. He thanked me for sending him to college nonetheless. Dr. B is still alive, but not well.
Some people had seen the crossword publicity. One guy even had me sign an autograph.
A guy from my class is married to someone in this class, and I saw his 1969 nametag and went over. "I'm in your class!" I said. "No, you're not," he replied. "Yes I am!" It took him a while to get that I was also wearing a 1969 nametag.
People were so busy talking they had to be reminded to go up to the buffet and take some food. People were there to talk, not to eat. The evening went very quickly.
A lot of people have lost parents. Some have grandchildren (and no one is used to the idea). Some are facing health issues.
Time marches on. It's good to stop and look back. And then go on with life.