My high school class never had a reunion. I’m not surprised. We had one the lamest groups of students to graduate during my four years of high school. Because I was one of the “smart kids” I was able to spend most of my time sequestered with the gifted program thankfully. My mainstream classmates in gym, ceramics and homeroom were nearly unbearable to be around. Outside of school, I hung out with a select group of friends and my girlfriends. And, being a hormone driven teenager who didn’t know any better, I’d skip time with my friends for my girlfriend more often than not.
So after high school, I didn’t plan to attend a reunion. I figured I could see the people I liked anytime I wanted to. As for the rest of my classmates, I never wanted to see them again.
Around 15 years after I graduated, I met a guy at work who graduated from my old high school about 10 years after me. He invited me to join him at one of the neighborhood dive bars. He said, “Every Friday night is like a class reunion for anyone who still lives in the area. I’m sure you’ll see some of your old classmates there.”
No thanks.
Since I dropped out of college after being a commuter student for two years and then went to night school for several years at Community College, I never felt like I was part of any college class. Besides, I didn’t graduate, so there was no opportunity for a college reunion.
I had a big, extended family from my hometown of Tamaqua. We never had formal family reunions because relatives who lived intern saw each other all the time – at church, for Sunday dinners, on holidays, in town and just popping in for visits.
The many cousins, siblings, aunts, uncles and distant family members who had moved to other small towns visited Tamaqua frequently.
I loved seeing them.
That came to an abrupt halt the day my mother moved us to Pittsburgh when I was 7. I spent my summers in Tamaqua for the next 8 years and only saw my relatives then. Those were wonderful summers.
Growing up, I always expected to have reunions. I expected to have big high school reunions every 5 years. I excepted to have a college reunion. I expected to attend family reunions.
I thought I’d see people all grown-up. I’d bring my wife and brag about my job. Old girlfriends would be jealous. Friends would marvel at my success. Family members would get married and bring babies, dogs, and grandkids while we had giant cookouts on a summer day in the park.
I’d get to see how the smart kids turned out and meet their wives and children. We’d all laugh about the good old days. Some people would have gotten fat. Some would be super hot. One might have died tragically young and another might have gone to jail.
These fantasies all came from TV, movies, books and newspapers.
They were not even close to reality for me.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if my mother had stayed in Tamaqua. I would have gone to school for 12 years with the same kids whose parents went to school with my parents, and whose grandparents went to school with my grandparents.
I would have been part of a nuclear family, a local community and a huge extended family.
Would I have gone to one of the nearby colleges and graduated? Would I have married a girl I grew up with? Would I have had a couple of kids and be a grandfather by now?
I have no idea.
A few years ago, I tracked down my two closest friends from Tamaqua.
I know both graduated from my old small-town high school.
One moved to a small town a few hours away, became a teacher and was once on Jeopardy.
The other graduated from college, also moved a few hours away and appeared to have established himself as a mid-level white collar professional.
I have no idea if either married their high school sweetheart, had kids or attended any reunions. I suspect they have.
Just like on TV.