August 8 is rapidly approaching.
My 40th High School Reunion.
How can it be that?
Did I blink?
Did I slip into some kind of Brigadoon?
Am I really staring at turning 60 in two short years?
So many questions. So little time.
Some days I feel like I’ve lived five different lives, and then it’s like I haven’t lived at all.
One of the ways I sort through thoughts and feelings is to put the words out in front of me. I do my best thinking out loud.
Today’s Reunion Thought: Angst Revisited
1. a feeling of dread, anxiety, or anguish.
I will never forget walking up the sidewalk by what was then the practice field. It was wide and long…very long, and I was having trouble breathing.
I was sure I would never forgive my father for uprooting me from the place where I felt like I was finally starting to connect.
I didn’t know anyone here. I was sure no one would ever want to know me.
Mustn’t cry. But I wanted to cry and to run. Life was over. I was sure of it.
And so began the awkward angst-filled dance called High School. All the struggles with wanting to fit in, wanting to be liked and loved. The only moments when I didn’t feel alone were the moments when I happened to sit with a girlfriend in the bathroom weeping over the latest break-up. “What’s wrong with us?” we would cry.
Oh the battles with the monster “Enough.” Never smart enough. Never thin enough. Never enough.
It wasn’t until many years later when I got together with two friends from the ‘Burg and listened to them that I realized how un-unique my feelings were.
I’ve been doing some online reading about the experiences of others as they struggled with the whole reunion battle. Should I go? Why bother?
It seems the older we get the greater the need to look back. Who would have thought that what lies ahead would hold scarier moments than first loves won and lost, first jobs, and first wings of freedom.
Someone likened going to a reunion to getting a ‘do over.’ I can live with that. I’ve been living my do over for several years. And some of that process and growth has actually been helped by unexpected connections I’ve made on Facebook.
Here’s what I’ve decided: Life has been good. I have had my share of challenges, and enough disappointments, failures, and shame for three people–not that I was trying to hoard it. But my focus here on out is where it needs to be. I’m counting my blessings and thanking my God, especially that my dad yanked me away from where I was comfortable and planted me somewhere I could flourish.
So to the class of 1975, let’s enjoy this occasion.