Reunions are like rest stops on the road of life--a Kodak moment on life's journey. They are standalone experiences shared by people of the past, milestone friends who remind us of who we used to be. These friends in place and time prepared us for adventure. Each was filled with unknown dreams and abilities, hidden for a time, underneath the ever-present need to be accepted.  

 

It was my first high school reunion, Richmond Union High School class of 1964.

 

For a few days prior to the reunion, I visited the old haunts, Giant Hamburger, Casper Hotdogs, McDonald Ave, Nicholl Park, and Alvarado Park. Much had changed, but it was still my "place," my sights and sounds and smells; it was my used-to-be world. Regardless of the changes, the places triggered memories that hadn't seen the light of day in decades. 

 

Finally, I visited my old schools; the only one that had survived the years a without a total mutation was my grade school, Riverside Elementary. 

 

I stood there looking at that small little building that looked so big in 1951. The memories swarmed in random order, one stacked on another, till it was time to go.  That place had blessed me before I knew it; as I returned to the car, I was preoccupied by a strange concoction of gratitude and satisfaction. I loved it.

 

Now to the reunion: It was great to reconnect with those "old people" who shared the same cafeteria food, wandered the same hallways, and sat through the same classes. A central table was filled with assorted yearbook pages and old pictures. The images prompted stories, some based on fact and others on fantasy. We shared place and time, but not secrets.  

 

There were so many hidden stories, secrets that we thought no one else would understand. Truth was, everyone was hiding secrets. It was our desperate hope that at graduation we would finally be free, free of secrets, free of parents, free of authority, free of limitations, free of high school. But to our surprise, there was much more to learn. 

 

Our high school years were really only "large group preparation" for the personal challenges of the real world. Those exciting years prepared us for what we have become. And, we are still unfinished. We are still morphing. With the passing of each year, we are becoming a better and better version of ourselves. In a truly wondrous journey, whether we know it or not, God is still shaping and mentoring us. He is connecting the dots and preparing us for life at the next level. There is always more.

 

I think there are those at every reunion who go hoping for a miracle; hoping someone notices them, sees past the name tag and discovers the treasure that is yet to be revealed. So many of us are still lost in mystery,  yet to find our way. But we are always watching and listening, longing to be noticed. In some way, all reunion goers long to be noticed and remembered. 

 

I discovered places are special because they remind us of people. Moments in time are remembered because of the people. Pictures are saved because they capture people. So you can still have a high school reunion even though the high school has been torn down. It's all about the people, the unfinished classmates. 

 

I began the evening trying to remember names, but I left blessed by life. As I walked to the car, I was overwhelmed by that now familiar concoction of gratitude and satisfaction. I loved it.