Reunion blues

I'm in the middle of planning my 20th (gasp!) college reunion and I'm honest enough to admit I only want a handful of people to show up -- my circle of friends. The rest can just stay put. I know it's shallow, but I don't have the energy to invest any more time getting to know people I never wanted to get to know back in the day.

More than likely, most of my friends will not be coming to the reunion, and it's a shame. We'll probably never be together again like we were in those halcyon days.

I remember graduation day as if it were yesterday. After all the celebrations were over and most of the class had drifted off with their proud parents, I walked the campus mall. I ran into a few friends and we hugged goodbye, promising to keep in touch, but it was all a sham. I knew it wasn't true. Most I would never see again. Four years, probably the best years of my life in terms of freedom, growth, and adventures, and then it was on to the real world. I'm grateful I've managed to keep some of those relationships alive, but it's been hard. We've all got commitments, families, jobs. We're all exhausted.

I miss them, though. I really do.

When I look back at my college years, I hardly recognize the person I was. Is it possible I could go an entire 4 years without having a single political discussion with anyone? (My 13-year-old son knows more about the current political climate than I ever did at his age.) That I failed a current events test, making up answers to amuse The Professor? (No, Gorbachev was not the latest fashion designer to emerge from the Crimea, but I got credit for creativity.) That flirting with boys was my number one priority? (It was.) That I would change clothes 3 times in one day just to impress the student body? (I did.)

I was so superficial. Thank God they still liked me.

Teddy's gone now: the first of that dear circle of friends to die. The Advocate called with the news, sobbing, and we drove down to Texas to his memorial service, trying to tell his family how much he'd meant. All I could think about on the way back was, "Who's next?"

So it's important to me to try and get this crazy gang of alumni together so we can scour the yearbooks again, pointing to pictures and asking each other, "What ever happened to him? Who did she marry? Look at that outfit -- what were we thinking?"

All the while, never saying out loud, "I love you, you crazy bastards."