Summer Highlights part 3

Home Mid-July

Why do I dread high school reunions? Is it facing the regrets of the past, or fearing that I've not made enough of my life so far? Maybe it's a little of each? For most of my high school years, I just wanted to blend in, or ideally, have some magical skill of disappearing when faced with yet another embarrassing moment. Still, some close friends had convinced me that attending the 15 year was a good idea. In retrospect, they were right, but that weekend in July, I was a little overwhelmed.

Friday night, I was to drive into town to meet the girls after a fun week with my nephews. We had been fishing, relaxing, playing catch, baking, taking in some baseball games and shooting hoops at the park. In fact, we were just leaving Mill Creek, loading the trunk with our rods and basketball, when I locked my keys in my trunk. I've never done that before, but I guess it never would seem like an ideal time. The boys were troopers as we waited for their dad to come and rescue us. Unfortunately, I didn't allow for the delay, so when I showed up to meet my girlfriends from high school, I was wearing 3 day old shorts (with just a few smears of worm guts) and a shirt with a fresh dusting of flour and cocoa from my zucchini bread bake-fest. Needless to say, I felt a little less than my most attractive when I met the girls at an outdoor concert back home.

I drove them to the next spot which, un-beknownst to me was not a girls-night-out-for-dinner. It was another drinking establishment with live outdoor music. The unexpected turned out to be quite enjoyable, and one of the highlights was re-acquainting myself with a friend I hadn't seen for 15 years and receiving a tutorial on how to properly flirt. Funny, memorable...and a great way to pass the time when your the D.D. Actually, one of our entourage had invited other members of our graduating class to join us downtown, so I tried to muster up enough confidence in my fishy and frizzy state to attempt intelligent conversation with those I hadn't seen in years.

Saturday, I woke up with a renewed desire to look my best. Suddenly, my closet full of clothes held nothing that suited the event. I went shopping for something that looked a little more presentable (and clean), then showered and primped while I waited for my college roommate/friend from high school to arrive from Illinois. The butterflies at that point were ridiculous.
To my surprise, I really enjoyed mingling with acquaintances from the past. Most conversations were brief and breezy, completely painless and, dare I say, fun! Hilarious moments were had, new memories were made and some even got a good laugh out of watching me attempt to apply my new flirting skills (learned the previous night) on my fifth grade crush. Without going into too much detail, let me just say that the past 22 years definitely improved the man. It probably helped that he was a wine-maker from California, so there was less fear of making a fool of myself--I would never have to see him again, right? I was completely out of my league, but enjoying every minute of it...taking my friends up on the dare to let loose a bit. The girls were an incredible cheering section into the wee hours, and one of my favorite blessings was staying up until 5a.m., laughing and reviewing the evenings events with my college roomie.

Imagine my shock when Mr. Fifth Grade Crush called the next day. Seeing him pull into my own driveway was surreal, but after I survived the first 5 minutes of jitters the rest of the afternoon unfolded as with an old friend.
The weekend's resulting joy was completely worth the risk. I was reminded that these people never really knew the 'me' I am now. I've only spent the last five years being willing to examine and present who I am and not who I think others want me to be. Knowing others and feeling known by them can stir more fear than joy, so I used to avoid it altogether. Now, more than ever, I know that I need to be willing to risk a little rejection if I want to be known. Today I think both the joy and fear are completely necessary...and even good for me! So, my lesson learned, fifteen years later? I'm realizing that I don't exactly blend in, and I think I'm finally comfortable with that.