“But you have to go! It’s your reunion!” they chimed together. A sea of faces, all about the same age, stood at the end of my bed looking at me expectantly.
My eyes hardened, my voice took on a snake-like hiss, and I spit out my response, “I don’t have to go anywhere”.
Then I woke up from my dream.
The ‘Reunion’ dream had been showing nightly this week, resulting in me waking up in a flop sweat and frantically searching the room for the ghosts of high school’s past.
What prompted this terrifying dream to rear its ugly head? The same thing that prompted it every year at this time – ‘summer was coming’ and high school reunions were being announced left and right.
It wasn’t as if it was my year to even worry about a reunion invite. My graduation year ended in a ‘2’, which meant that I have at least 3 or 4 more years before my delightful, red-headed sprite of a class-mate and dear friend sends me a Facebook request to join the ‘Reunion of 82’ group.
It is two of my sister’s high school reunion this summer. They didn’t graduate together, but the class sizes are dwindling every year therefore the combination of classes was necessary to ensure a successful event.
Crap! What if someone dreams up that bright idea for our reunion? What if I don’t have 4 years! What if someone is already planning a multi-year group reunion!
You might be wondering, “Why does Judy dislike her high school reunion so much?”
Well, first of all – there are quite a few of ‘us’ out there: people who receive their save the date for their 10 year, 20 year, 30 year or even 40 year reunion and immediately light it on fire and dispose of the evidence with the speed of a White House advisor. My husband doesn’t understand my anti-reunion position and disposing of the evidence helps me to avoid any uncomfortable conversation whereat he tries to convince me that, “They are so much fun!”
HIS 10 year was a ton of fun…..for him. I remember clearly pulling on my mu-mu like dress and waddling into the curling rink – a full 9 months pregnant. It was July 30th, 1988 and we were attending his wine and cheese reception. They gave out awards for who traveled the furthest but alas, there was no award for who was the most pregnant. Our son was born 3 minutes into August 1st – that is how pregnant I was.
My 10-year reunion arrived 4 years later and at some point during the gathering at the old Elk’s Hall for our Friday night wine and cheese, I made a pact with myself that I would not attend another. You see, I had lived in three different places growing up and had moved to Dawson Creek when I was entering Grade 11. The fact that I didn’t really belong was never more apparent than when everyone began gathering in their elementary school groupings for a photo. I sat outside the fray and wondered, “Will there be a photo of the outliers?”
There might have been a photo, but I don’t remember as I left early. My husband remained because, of course, he knew everyone there and was having a great time.
I thought about attending my reunion from my previous schools but both would have been awkward: Seven years in one school and three in the next.
Small town/city living is never more evident than when you attend a school reunion. The alliances and relationships run deep and for someone who felt like they didn’t quite belong, the chasm can be so deep that it is impossible to overcome.
It wasn’t like I was friendless – no…I had a group of great friends in high school, but we didn’t have that bond that was formed over years of riding a school bus together or could be shared over stories of elementary school pranks.
Don’t feel sorry for me, goodness no! I have no issues with not attending my reunion, other than the scary dreams, which you could say were a metaphor for something. That is a conversation best had with a therapist.
For those of you who are fondly anticipating your 10, 20, 30 or even 40 year high school reunions – good for you! Make those hotel reservations, book off that weekend, get the trailer ready and whatever else you need to do to fulfill your attendance at your decennial sip and see.
For those, “graduation orphans” who will avoid it like the plague…..I hear you, I see you, and I am you.
Judy Kucharuk is a lover of sarcasm, witty people and footnotes. You can read her book “Naked Tuesday” or catch her on CBC Radio Daybreak North where she shares her “Peace of Mind”. Follow her on twitter @judylaine.
