A Reunion

Just came from one..with family..and with a gang of former schoolmates. Yes, one of those!

It was on the “old sod”, mostly Northern Westchester County (NY), in and around Mt. Kisco and Bedford, NY to be exact.

We got to spend time with my son, Ben, and sister-in-law Maureen–family time which always means a ton. And we connected with an old neighborhood friend of Marion’s, whose family were best friends with her family in Brooklyn. I never cease to be amazed at how old connections re-establish in a heartbeat–like we were never apart.depositphotos_5777753-Calendar---Special-Day-Circled-for-Anticipated-Date

Who brings this into your life?
Memorable times

A former schoolmate, close friend and neighbor of mine shared her home with us for four days to help make the trip possible–she was beyond generous in my book. It never hurts to be able to relax on a lovely patio surrounded by more green than this Arizonan has enjoyed in a long time.

The main event? For one evening all 40 plus of us former schoolmates stared and squinted to identify each other, howled at the same old stories, and added new ones to our repertoires. Smiles and good will abounded.

We appreciated shared accomplishments. What we have become! Doctors, law enforcement officers, teachers–lots of teachers, chemists, moms (lots of moms and dads of course), corporate wizards, small business successes, lawyers, law enforcement people, and on and on.

Bedford NY sidewalk

But what we really wanted most of all was to see the “us” that we always had been. We we all still “that person” we remembered? Well, not entirely, but more than enough tested “yes” to energize the spirit and reward the memory.

Afterward, Marion and I drove through the town–places where I partied with some of the people in the room we’d just left, the hospital where my son was born–and where I’m sure the majority of the reunion attendees were born as well; the dealership where I bought my first car; the site of the former soda fountain where we all went after movies; the commercial land my Mom sold in her biggest real estate sale ever; the railroad station where I commuted to my first job in “the city”.

I left with so much more than I expected–a soul invigorated just by the presence of other I knew well, liked, loved, and shared so much with. It’s called perspective, the rewarding reassurance that life goes on and we all find ways to, mainly, make the most of it.

When you have a chance to reunite, do not miss it!

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