My high school years were not my glory days. I mean, I had some good times and some good friends. I performed well academically, but I was neither a cheerleader, an athlete, nor part of the top tier socially. After graduating, I did not keep up with one single friend – not because of bitterness, but just because of indifference, I suppose. So, when I received the invitation to my 50th high school class reunion, I threw it in the trash – I didn’t think twice.
But then, one of my best pals from high school (and junior high school!) – one of the friends with whom I never kept in touch, Jay, found me. He sent me an email, insisting I attend the reunion. I told him thanks, but no thanks. Still, he insisted! Persisted! Wore me down! I gave in. It helped that the reunion was held literally across the street from where my dad lives. I figured if the party was awful, I could go back across the street and go to bed in his apartment.
There were precisely two people at the reunion that I was overjoyed to see: Jay, and my friend, Carol, who held the same rank as me in the cruel social hierarchy of our high school. The three of us had a riot catching up on hilarious (at least we thought they were hilarious) old times, which were often at the expense of our poor, tortured teachers.
Carol and I paged through an old yearbook, pausing to point out various “mean girls”, and believe me, in my class, there were plenty of them. As Carol pointed out, she and I lacked the status to even consider being mean girls – no one would have cared who we chose to bully.
Throughout the evening, I recognized only a handful of people – a mere few out of our class of 650 kids. I could often remember the name on the name tag, but I could not associate it with the face. But, get this: I could recognize smiles! A woman (it was always a woman) would greet me, and I would scramble to recall who she was. Then voilà! She smiled! I remembered her! A smile brought me an instant feeling of warm recognition. I still had no idea how I knew this person, but I knew we had been together in some class and that we had shared some good memories. Strange and delightful that a smile brings back a feeling of recognition. Like the smell of cinnamon rolls baking reminds you of your grandma. A smile brought me great JOY.
A few more moments of JOY. First, the Riley sisters, identical twins. I did remember them, and boy, did they remember me! When one sister, Corey, saw me, her face lit up, and she led me to Connie. “Connie! Look who I found!” It was a little embarrassing – you would have thought I was the second coming of Christ. I honestly did not think Connie would ever release me from her bear hug. It turns out they had been talking about me! Hoping I would show up! I had to look over my shoulder to figure out who they might be talking about.
Another unlikely JOY. George Morris, someone I considered to be the most handsome boy of our entire class. He was so out of my league back then; I’m sure we never even had a conversation. Yet, here was George … approaching me! He was happy to see me! He gave me a kind of half hug. I said, “You were the most beautiful boy in high school… You are still beautiful”. I actually said that – it just spilled out of my mouth. He smiled and gave me a look that was a cross between an “Aw shucks” and “I get that all the time” look. What joy to know that I am now worthy of his attention.
I reported to Carol about how the Riley twins went insane over seeing me. And how George had deigned to talk to little ole me. She said, “Oh, I’m not surprised. You know, Martha, you really were something in high school.” Which I didn’t believe then, and I am not sure I believe now. I was never the cheerleader, the athlete, the club president, someone’s sweetheart. I guess that didn’t matter. It surely doesn't matter now.
So, here was this past week’s JOY: smiles that elicited memories, connecting with a few beloved friends, and finally learning that I was somebody all those years ago.
And knowing that I still am.