Young Together

This weekend was the 25th reunion of the Richmond High School class of 1988. I'm tempted to joke that I was a prodigy who graduated at age 12, but 1) it's obvious that I was no prodigy and 2) I'm actually quite comfortable with being 25 years post graduation. I've now been out of school longer than I was in school, and I feel like I've finally learned some things. Being young was fun, but I was also so naive and insecure that it's a little bit painful. I think I'd rather be forty-something, not quite as agile or fresh-faced, but a little wiser and definitely more comfortable in my own skin.

I love my 1988 Richmond High School classmates. This, I've learned and come to appreciate, was an amazing class, is an amazing group of people. These are the friends with whom I can let much too much time pass between visits, but then we can sit down together and feel as if we're instantly reconnected, laughing and catching up over a meal just like it was a post-football game pizza at Noble Romans.

These are the friends who feel just the same. Even though we're clearly not the same. We've gained weight and lost weight, changed our hair (thank goodness! The '80's was not a good decade for hair) or lost our hair, had kids, agonized over kids, made decisions, faced disappointments, overcome adversity, battled demons. But with all that I can still talk to former classmates and think, "They are just the same!" Just the same in all the ways that matter. Still funny, still crazy, still smart, still talented, still kind, still the life-of-the-party, still quiet, still wise-beyond-years, still hopeful, still fearless.

These are the friends who knew me when. They know my stories. They knew me with braces and glasses, knew me skinny and excruciatingly shy, knew my crushes and my heartbreaks, knew my bad choices because they were right there making those bad choices with me. They know I have no sense of direction because they were with me the day I tried to drive to a party at Brookville Lake and ended up in Brookville, Ohio. They knew that Trent was all wrong for me because he was such a male chauvinist when he dated Erin, and they weren't afraid to tell me not to date him. (They were also the bridesmaids and honored guests at our wedding, and I hope will be there when we celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary.)

Even though we had RSVP'd and were in Richmond, ready for the party with a new dress, we didn't get to attend our reunion because of a family emergency. But they were the friends who were praying and offering support, meeting me and Paul for dinner - telling those stories and exclaiming how CUTE! Paul was even as he was licking the salt shaker and scamming quarters. (He was on his best behavior, girls, believe it or not.) These were the friends who stopped by before the reunion to make sure everything was OK, and who texted after to find out how things were, how they could help.

We were young together at the same time, in the same place. And that means so much.