“The things that matter most in our lives are not fantastic or grand. They are moments when we touch one another, when we are there in the most attentive or caring way.” —Jack Kornfield in A Path with Heart (Bantam, 1993).
This morning I am remembering when we returned from my almost sixty-year high school reunion. There were thirty-three in my graduating class. We thought we could make the trip that year, but weren’t sure about the next, so decided to go now. We had lunch with friends I knew growing up in a small town in tidewater Virginia. Some might have called it a one-horse town, since we only had one stop light. We would talk about driving up to “the light.” I am so glad we went. I talked with one of my friends who now lives in a county in Virginia that boasts it has no stop lights!
It was as if it had been only a few days since we last saw each other—instead of fifty-eight years. Why is it so easy to re-connect to those we grew up with? They knew us before we had many masks. There is no need to have pretensions around them. They know who we are and where we came from. Meeting again, we are all back on an equal playing field.
The majority of the women in my class went off to college. Many of the boys stayed in our small town, worked at the mill, and took early retirement. All seemed to enjoy life. Most seemed genuinely interested in what the others were doing and asked about them rather than talking about themselves. All had had some tragedy, and all had had some magical moments.
Shortly after we returned that year, my oldest granddaughter sent us pictures of her senior prom. I see pictures of her friends, and can in some small way understand how important these relationships must be to her. I wonder what her fifty-eighth high school reunion will be like.
I will keep that day and this visit in the memory book of my mind and hope to revisit it again, hopefully next year, giving thanks for where I grew up and the many friends who influenced me and taught me about caring.
Joanna. Joannaseibert.com
