The grocery store checker asked me if I had anything fun planned for the weekend.
“I’m going to my high school reunion.”
I told her it was hard to believe that 30 years had passed since I graduated from high school.
“Oh yeah, 30 is a big one!” she said. “I remember I walked into my 30th and thought I was in the wrong place. I walked out of the room and had to check the sign outside to make sure I was in the right place.”
“Why did you think you were in the wrong place?”
“Cuz the room was filled with a bunch of old people I didn’t recognize! Turns out, they were my classmates!”
I’ve never looked forward to attending any of my class reunions. I didn’t even go to the last one. I’m sure I had a really good reason such as I had failed to lose 10 pounds or I was too shy to talk to anyone or that no one would remember me anyway. I even told the husband I wasn’t going to attend this year’s reunion either. I spouted out absurd reasons that included cancer and the farmer’s tan on my arms and Shakey’s pizza being closed and how my former classmates would only be interested in what my post chemo hair looked like.
He sighed and gave me a good eyeball roll.
As he should have.
The morning after I told the husband I wasn’t going to my reunion I received a notification from the Facebook reunion group that someone I was friends with in high school had committed to attend. The next day it was someone I only casually knew in high school but we were now good Facebook friends. The following day it was someone I didn’t have anything in common with in high school but I knew I sure did now. I could probably talk to these people, I thought.
I found myself kind of, sort of, actually wanting to go. I reminded myself that despite my apprehensions, I have always been glad I went to the reunions that I did go to. Those extra pounds never really mattered. The outgoing people made an effort to talk to the shy people like me. And some people actually DID remember me.
I always enjoyed myself.
I told the grocery store checker that I was still a little bit nervous but also, finally, a little bit excited for my reunion. She said that she had a great time at her reunion once they brought out the name tags. "You know, there ain't no spring chickens at a 30th high school reunion. It helped to put a name to all the old looking faces."
I smiled and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about old people for, though. The people I graduated with aren’t old! We are all young and fabulous and still look great!”
Even those of us with post chemo hair.