That would be Bill’s 60th high school reunion…a daunting number, yes. Bill graduated from
High School in 1952 (before I was
born) and over a recent weekend we made the trek to Central
Maine for the event. I went
purely out of a sense of duty and surprisingly ended up having a good
time. It certainly made for a few hours
of superb people-watching!
As we arrived, a man taking photographs for a scrapbook exclaimed Hello there, Billy! Did you bring your daughter? I’m afraid he wasn’t joking-he was truly confused and later, during the meal, he asked Just how old are you? The appetizer hour was full of stares and questions, but once people realized that Bill and I have been married for 29 years things calmed down. I was at least 20 years younger than everyone in the room, but all the same I have lived a full 57 years and thought it much ado about nothing.
I was taken back to another time and place by everyone calling my husband Billy. He had long left that name behind when I met him. And it was interesting to observe these people, most of who had stayed within a few miles of their birthplace. Superficially one could look at their lives and assume they had been dull and predictable. But just start asking, and you hear about seeing the
in a motor home, international travel, successful business ventures and
recovery after devastating loss. When I
asked one of the women at our table about her family, she volunteered that two
of her four adult children had died within a year of each other. I quickly lost my snobby assumptions about
life in . Livermore
Bill had spoken of one of his classmates, “the prettiest girl,” getting pregnant, going away to have the baby and subsequently giving it up for adoption. Well, she was there at the reunion with her husband of decades, very sparkly and still pretty. She told of their four children, a teaching career and a family business. It struck me as a good example of overcoming a mistake, and I can’t help but wonder as I see many, many young unmarried women with a child or two, trying to make a life.
I came away from the reunion pondering, again…What would it have been like to stay in one place? Or even in one place for more than 10 years? I have always wanted to see what’s around the bend and I thrive on bringing my particular skills and talents to a new choir, a new church and new students. Although I would do it all over again, given the chance, I find that as I age my restlessness is subsiding. And I think that one of these days I might just stay put.