Old Friends

Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly? …
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fear...
Time it was, and what a time it was, it was…
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you

P. Simon 1968

Worcester, MA (YN) – I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics of that song as I was immersed in the past this weekend at my 35th high school reunion.

Back in my hometown of Worcester, Massachusetts with the people that I grew up with 35 years after the fact was an emotional rollercoaster. I suppose when you live in the place that you grew up in, all those symbols of your youth are present every day. Having moved from New England nearly 30 years ago, it’s a bit like an emotional tsunami when you are faced with all of that in one fell-swoop.

There’s the house you grew up in, the cemetery where most of the family is buried, the grammar school, junior high and high school you attended. The place where you got your first job, and the place where you kissed your first girl.

It’s also the place where I forged friendships that have lasted a lifetime. Strange thing about those kinds of friendships is you may not see a person for months or years, but pick up right where you left off. There’s that cement of common experience that formed you. It’s a strong pull and something that can’t be replicated with people you meet later in life.

We gathered at a restaurant and relived the “old days” for several hours, but more importantly we continued that shared experience of growing up together. I don’t think that common experience stops when you go out into the world and get a job, start a family and in some cases move away. I don’t even believe that death can halt that process, as those who are no longer with us still had a presence and impact on those in the room.

For me reunions aren’t about going backward, but about going forward knowing that those bonds you forged all those years ago are intact. I know when it gets really thick; there is still a “home.” That home isn’t so much a place, but an emotional center that is populated with the people that played an important role in making you who you are.

So, as I get ready to head back to Madison, Wisconsin, Worcester will never be very far in the rear-view mirror. It occupies an important space on my emotional map.

“Time it was, and what a time it was, it was… A time of innocence, a time of confidences. “

Here’s to the future.

gg