Reunions and Friends

I’m at that stage in life where big numbers start happening. In October which, ouch, starts tomorrow, I’ll be seventy-seven and that’s a big number, not so big mind you as my mother’s one hundred plus but for a male in my family it is really pretty large. My father died at fifty-five and his father at thirty-two so yeah, pretty much a big number when you consider my father’s family. With that big number go some other quantitative titans like this is the fifty-fifth year celebrating my miraculous graduation from college. Why miraculous you ask? Because in those days academics was a serious business and my college required that you pass a comprehensive examination on all four years of the subject matter in your major. I had sixteen hours (a relatively large number when you’re talking about examinations) of written exams over three days and six and a half hours of an oral examination in front of six Episcopal priests each with advanced degrees in theology. I know people who did less for doctorates but hey, I eked out a pass and now I get to celebrate that passing out (I actually went back to my dorm room and passed out for the better part of a night and day of tortured sleep) with others who also managed their way through whatever their departments demanded of them. I was the only major in my department so…

Having a prodigious memory I will remember many of my classmates who will not remember me and that is the essence of this blog: Friends, acquaintances, face recognition without names, absolute at a loss to remember and in some cases, don’t want to remember; these are all the rapid fire phenomenon that will occur during the first cocktail party and dinner for the exornati (that’s any class with more than fifty years). We’ll search for common ground which will probably be remembering this or that professor where our academic careers crossed. That is unless your closest friends attend and then you’ll share life stories and catch up. Alas, with the exception of one, none of my close friends will be attending.

Another problem with big numbers in your life is trying to rekindle friendships from long ago. For example I had only a few close friends in high school having been dropped into the mix of a homogeneous group of people, many of whom had been together since grade school. Still I did make a few friends. But then when you operate under cover for twenty plus years you tend to lose touch with those people because you do not want to tell your cover lies to friends. In truth a real clandestine operator doesn’t have friends, just targets, agents and noise. So, when you are no longer under cover and you want to renew friendships, it can be difficult.

There are two ladies from my high school class with whom I was close, at least until my senior year when I had to draw back from all but class and sports to take care of my father who was dying from leukemia. Still we were good friends. When I first contacted one she seemed accepting of a renewed contact until she spoke with the second and now neither of them will correspond with me. Had they been paramours and I somehow broke their hearts or they mine, I could understand, but that is not the case. They were, in fact, surrogates for my sister who died my sophomore year in high school. They both had successful high school careers and there are no tragedies of which I am cognizant that they would associate me with, but neither will tell me why they choose not to simply correspond with me. I find this intriguing and yes, a little bit frustrating. They are not alone for there is a close friend from college with whom I played football and lifted weights. He too, has declined to reengage and he’s my oldest son’s godfather. He will not be at the reunion and he has broken ties not just with me but all his other classmates as well.

We’re supposed to become wiser as we age and gain in experience but I must say there are things I still do not understand about human nature. Perhaps it is just a lack of data on my part, but you would like to know why close friends of the past choose not to be at least passing acquaintances of the present. Perhaps I should hire a Sherlock Holmes or peut etre enter into therapy to determine why it bothers me, for certainly one of the things about achieving large numbers is that age is inversely proportional with the number of your friends still alive or able to remember you.

I know the alternative of not achieving large numbers is not a preferred state but what good does it do you to outlast others if you can’t rejoice with those who are also attaining large numbers and with whom you have shared experiences. You know things like celebrating your glory days of passing those dreaded comprehensive exams or toilet papering the house of your rival for the attention of a young lady or maybe, well in 77 years there’s a lot to celebrate and commiserate about. So, I will off to the reunion, be nice and unknown, watch the football team lose again and return home vowing not to attend the sixtieth but knowing full well I probably will, for hope springs eternal, yada, yada, yada. That is unless, of course, my father’s family history catches up with me before then. And perhaps, just perhaps, one of those ladies will share with me the why of their decision. Then again, perhaps not, Sigh.