Reunion - To Attend Or Not to Attend?

Ten years ago, our high school class held its 50th reunion. I looked forward to seeing all my old classmates and finding out how they had fared over the years.

The ones who attended the reunion were definitely those who seemed to have fared very well. The cheer leaders and the football team were well represented and looked surprisingly trim. The two ladies dressed in wrinkleless size 3s were in charge of the gathering and insisted we line up for a group picture. A picture that had me standing in front and on the end so that every excess pound was there for the whole world to see.

I will admit that the picture stirred me, at least for a couple of years, into action. I couldn't believe that I, the girl with the string-bean figure in our high school class picture was now the frumpiest girl in the class.

I dieted, bought some clothes that weren't quite so out of style, and got downright obsessive about walking at least 5 days a week. Not that I ever made it into a size 3, but at least I didn't look too bad for my height and age.

Since a few members had already passed away, we decided, at that 50th reunion, to start meeting every 5 years instead of waiting for a whole decade to go by.

When the 5th summer rolled around, we had lost several more members, including one of the main organizers who died only a few months before the date set up for the next reunion, so it was decided not to have a reunion that year.

I hadn't shed all the pounds I had wanted to shed before appearing in yet another class picture so I thought another 5 years should really help.

Somehow, during those years, my goal had slipped my mind until early this summer when I realized that this was the big year. I wasn't anywhere near the point of regaining my "green-bean" figure. Actually, "Pumpkin-like," would have been a much more accurate description, but, noticing how quickly the ranks of our class were shrinking, due to deaths, I swallowed my pride and went.

What a difference a decade had made. Without the name tags someone passed out when we arrived, I wouldn't have recognized a soul. Not a single soul. Most of them had gained at least 30 pounds---even the cheerleaders---and, except for the former string-bean girl--me-- who was still vain enough to dye her hair, every person there had gray or totally white hair. Sixty years had taken its toll.

I didn't need the group picture this year to remind me of how I compared with everyone else in the class, but thinking about how we may all look in ten more years, at least those of us who are fortunate enough to live that long, has stirred me even more to action.

The week after the reunion, I dug out an exercise program CD that had been gathering dust for quite some time and got to work. I've decided that, even if I am the only one left standing for the group picture at the next class reunion, whether it be 5 years from now or 10, no one is going to be able to describe me as "Pumpkin-Like."

About this Author

Jeanne Gibson writes from her home in Springfield, Oregon. She often writes on topics of interest to Senior Citizens. Check out her website at: http://www.jeannegibson.com/I_Recommend....html

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