REUNION: an event designed to check out weight, wrinkles and wealth.

I didn’t go to my 50th High School Reunion. There was a lot happening in my life then that precluded my attending. I regret it now, having received numerous messages telling me that I was missed and that it wasn’t the same without me there. Nice to hear.

Now my class (1958) is holding a post-50th reunion barbecue. I’m going to attend this one. There’s some preparation to be done before July rolls around. Pounds to lose, mindset to be adjusted, and projects to be completed before then. I don’t want to be there saying, “Well, I’m working on….” It sounds phony, like I really don’t have anything happening and I’m just making up stuff.

I’m a different person today from the skinny kid who walked across the stage with these people. Married for nearly 45 years, three kids, three graduate degrees, a three-decade plus career, ups, downs, the ecstasy of victory, the agony of defeat. I’ve lived in nine states and two countries.

The material I received tells me that fifteen of my classmates have died. A few of them were close friends; all fifteen were people I knew. It wasn’t that big a class, and we all had moments of relationship of one kind or another. Mortality raises its ugly head again.

I live in my interior a lot more than the last time I saw these folks. Bumps, scrapes and bruises will do that to you. I used to be very outgoing…probably too much so. Outspoken, gregarious, and an expert on everything. But the changes are not all reactions to tough days. There are other factors, as well. These days I spend a lot of time alone, writing. I’ve learned to be a lot more comfortable with myself and have less of a need to prove myself.

Writing has become for me a compulsion, starting way down deep inside me and bubbling up into words and phrases and concepts which emerge as creative thoughts. I really like what I write. I love it when others like my writing also, but I’m less concerned about that than I once was.

I’ve received several notes over the past few days from old friends who say they are looking forward to seeing me in July. Maybe not nearly as much as I look forward to seeing them. They need to know that I’m okay. I need to tell them that I miss them and that I’ve found myself. I hope that goes well.

In the meantime, it’s all about revising my diet, working with a personal trainer, getting off the sofa and turning off the TV. I won’t get to the point where the word “buff” enters the conversation, but I hope the word “blimp” doesn’t appear either.

Thanks for tolerating this stream of consciousness. It’s a variance from my usual political, linguistic, or cultural commentary. I attended Chilmark Writer’s Workshop last summer which was intended to help writers write from their hearts as well as their heads. Nancy Slonin Aronie , the workshop leader, would be happy.

Photo credit: http://janicedean.blogs.foxnews.com/2007/11/19/thanksgiving-weather-and-high-school-reunions/