A Reunion and Regrets

I didn't mean to lead you on. I suggested I'd have some juicy blog material from my 25th high school reunion on Saturday. Unfortunately, I don't have anything overly hilarious, heartwarming, or heartbreaking to report. I may have had something to work with if more than 10% of my class of 500+ had showed up. Alas, the turnout was weak. Most of the attendees were locals with just a handful of obviously bored individuals making the trek from out of state.

Overall, I guess everything you would expect from a reunion basically held true. I checked myself in the mirror a few dozen times to make sure I looked okay before getting out the car. Then I contemplated finding a quick shot of botox in a back alley in downtown Easton. Of course I compared myself to every other woman there cause that's what women do. Some looked exactly the same. Some changed quite a lot. There were people whose faces I didn't recognize and some whose names I never heard before. A surprising number of people in my class have died.  Several are divorced. I was really glad to see a few of them, particularly those who, thanks to Facebook, I can now call friends. A shout out to Jim, "reporter for Guitar World," who falls into this "new friend" category.

I'm afraid the most memorable reunion experience was one that embarrassed me and that I'll likely never forget. I wish I could say that I discovered I'd been wearing two different shoes or that there was spinach in my teeth. Even asking someone if they were pregnant when they weren't would have been preferable. Nope. I'm embarrassed to report that I learned I'd been mean. I, Freakin' Angel Kim, had a mean girl moment 28 years ago.

Literally minutes after arriving at the reunion a classmate sought me out. He wanted to show me what I'd written in his 9th grade yearbook. Here's what I read:

To a real nerd, Good luck in the future (you'll need it). Kim

Mortifying. I was not the mean girl. I was the girl who made an effort to befriend outsiders. I never made fun of anyone or laughed at their expense. And I'm relatively certain I wrote that in jest, as is the case with 99% of my snarky comments. But it was a painful reminder of the power of words. The impression they can make and the hurt they can cause. And how something that might seem amusing at the time can say something else entirely 25+ years later.

The weird girl and her funny son

I couldn't apologize enough to this classmate. I tried to convince him (and I meant it) that I must have really liked him to be willing to insult him like that because I only tease (and hurt) the ones I care about. I know that sounds assinine, but that's me.

This yearbook flashback made me think about my son's 8th grade yearbook. I took a look through it recently and enjoyed the funny and sweet comments:

Ian, you're the best ever!

Ian, you are one of the funniest, awesomest people I know.

Ian, you're so cool.

Ian, you are one of the funniest guys I know and you always make me smile and laugh.

Ian! You are an awesome singer and friend too!

And then I read this:

Wow! The planets aligned and we ended up on the discovery team together! Anyway, I don't have much to say, but I do want to tell you that through thick and thin, no matter what happens...you will always be my best friend.

You will gladly do anything when we hang out, and when I feel down, you will always be on my side. As Alfred the Butler said "We fall so we can get up again." You are the reason I can always stand back up. Thank you for an amazing year and many more to come! 

Every time I read that I get a little choked up at the depth of emotion, the maturity, the devotion to their friendship. I never had (nor was) a friend like that in high school, much less through elementary and middle school. In looking back through my own yearbooks from those years, I saw nothing to compare. Many of the comments my "friends" wrote referred to me as "weird." I guess I was right to pray to be normal before the start of every school year. But that's another post.

Lest I leave you all with a tear in your eye and a lump in your throat, both over my meanness and my son's goodness, I will share one more reunion moment. It came in discussion with my junior prom date. He looked good. He's successful. And while I talked with him as Rob stood next to me, I realized I had made a mistake in my choice of men.

I should have never gone to the prom with that tool.