Probably most everyone has been to their high school reunions at one time or another. It’s a popular occasion on this island – a lot of people attend every year. The graduating classes are small – eight, ten, 25 graduates and everyone has known everyone else all their life. I never gave reunions a thought, really, until now when I decided to go to one.

My first (and last) reunion, the 45th, took place in Connecticut the weekend after Thanksgiving. Unlike those on this island, my high school class numbered over 350. I only knew about 20 of them well. I moved away after graduation, and, with the exception of three or four close friends, I never saw any of them again. Forty-five years is a long time – from childhood to old age!

Well, I tell you, it was quite a revelation going to this reunion. Everyone got old but me! A trick of the mind, of course. Even though I’m old, I don’t think I am, and I don’t know any old persons who think they are old either. It was a good thing I went with my friends to tell me who everyone was – 172 people showed up and I had a hard time recognizing even ten of them. Once I did recognize them, I was overwhelmed with a rush of fond childhood memories that warmed me to my toes, and made for a very happy evening.

Just getting to this reunion on a holiday weekend was enough hassle to last me another 45 years. Naturally the traffic was unbelievable. Bumper to bumper on the Mass Pike for five miles in both directions, 5 mph top speed for over an hour. Then into Connecticut, more traffic, moving along, but still crowded. The small town where I grew up is now a suburb of Hartford. All the little towns have run into each other, so there’s no distinguishing one from another. Shopping malls are everywhere and there’s a house under every tree where I hoped for some wilderness. Good thing I moved away!

Another thing about getting to this reunion was that I had to go out into civilization. Having on this island for 23 years, I’m not used to polite society! Everybody around here says what they please to whom they please, with no bark on it. Tact, diplomacy and polite chitchat might be the order of the day – or it might not!

Going to my friends’ houses in the city with rugs, fine furniture and antiques everywhere, I didn’t dare move for fear of knocking something over, or leaving dirt on the carpet – how embarrassing. At home I don’t worry about tracking in dirt, or spider webs in the corner, or letting the animals in. Hopefully they won’t want to come to my house!

Reunions are fancy dress affairs, and, not wanting to totally disgrace myself, I had to dig out my fancy clothes. I do have a couple outfits for occasions. I’m used to running around in my shorts, tee shirts and sneakers (comfort is all), but I will get into something more refined if I must. A sparkly tunic and pants set (itchy), pantyhose (too tight), high-heeled shoes (can’t get a grip with those things), earrings, rings, hairdo, makeup, perfume – the whole nine yards, good grief! To think that I used to dress up every day when I worked in the city makes me shudder today!

It really was a pleasure to see my old friends that I had kept in touch with, and to renew friendships with those I had not seen. There’s a saying I was reminded of – “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other is gold.” Very true. Forty of our classmates had passed away already – a shocking statistic when I think about it. We are all the same age after all, and not that old either.

It was interesting to know how their lives went over the years, and what they had become. Most of my classmates went “forward” in life – that is, college degrees, careers, bigger and better jobs, bigger and better houses, and didn’t move far from home.

I, however, am sure I was the only fisherman’s wife in the whole crowd. I might as well have been from another planet, so little did I have in common with everyone else. Unlike them, I obtained no degree, worked for years as a secretary for a pittance, which can hardly be called a career, and lived in apartments, tents and log cabins. I went “backward” in life, so to speak. Back to the basics. And I would not changes places with any of them for the world.

Well, I did give this reunion of the Class of ’58 some thought. I even went to it. I managed to act as a civilized person. It was nice seeing all those fellas – but it’s hello and goodbye. I don’t think I’ll be trotting off this island to any more reunions, thank you anyway.