So, a couple weekends ago Jackson and I loaded up the car to go see our new apartment, visit Daddy who was on call and couldn’t leave his area, and to go to my hometown for the weekend for our little town’s summer celebration/all-school reunion. I had been in touch with a few girls from my graduating class, we made some tentative plans to “reunite” on Friday night and catch up a little. There were festivities in town all weekend, I had some job interviews early the next week, and this was kinda of like my summer vacation. Lame, I know.
At first I didn’t know what to think going into this whole reunion gig. Our class had never really gotten together since we were handed our diplomas in 2003. There were 21 kids in my class, 14 girls and 7 boys (for real). Most of the boys joined family businesses and stayed local, most of the girls scattered around. The majority of us are married (some of us twice already), most with kiddos. I still know the birthdays of all of my classmates, and in general, thanks to Facebook, know where most of them are today. The girls I was meeting up with were some of my closest friends – my sports teammates, cheerleading pals, and partners in mischief. I wasn’t nervous to see them, just excited – but when it came down to it, our commonalities now are basic – we are wives, mommies, and 30 years old – that’s about it. So I wasn’t sure how this would all go.
Funny enough, starting Thursday evening we were Facebook group chatting… about what we planned to wear. Not kidding. I giggled a lot over that, especially since I am early second trimester pregnant and nothing feels cute to me in my closet 🙂 Also, since I would not be drinking alcohol (thanks baby), I was nominated official DD. I picked 2 of the girls up at their parents’ houses and we headed to the local bar. It really felt like old times… looking nice for no one in particular, but really for everyone because you didn’t know who you might run into, chatting, playing fun music, and for them drinking beer (although it’s legal now). We met up with even more classmates later on – I think eventually I saw 9 or 10 others from the class of ’03, which is a decent turnout if your original number is 21!
I had a great time. It was relaxing. We shared birth stories, husband complaints, job nuances. We laughed, remembered, and genuinely enjoyed the company of each other. I also smiled a lot, because we are 12 years older, wiser, more experienced, but deep down, we are the same women. We are just as opinionated, shy, fun, self-conscious, and beautiful as we were at 18. We are all still just trying to find our way, accompanied by the people we love in this world. We still want people to like us. We still want to be good at stuff (one of my girl friends is a Pinterest genius! so jealous!). We want to feel comfortable in our own skin. By in large, I would say that we are a more confident, well-spoken, and a (truthfully) more beautiful group of women than we were back then. We know our wants and needs better, we’ve learned what we can easily live without, what we’d never want to give up. It was an awesome thing to take in. We have grown up, but we still have so much further to go.
I’m glad I went. Some things never change. Gossip is still juicy from the right tree. Some of us still can’t hold our booze. But there is comfort in that sameness. Thanks, Little Town on the Prairie, for giving us the opportunity to reunite and reconnect. It was worth it.