It's been a long time since I posted on this blog. I'm doing my "big writing" elsewhere these days, and I sometimes forget about this space where I shared so many thoughts for a few years.Today, this is the perfect place to write.
I'm working on my 45th high school reunion. We're having it mid-September, and last night our committee met to decide such things as what will go on the tables, what our playlist might be, what awards we will give. We talked a little bit about what we will wear, and found our younger selves in the class picture. And at some point, we reviewed the posters of our "Gone But Not Forgotten" classmates. We had one poster for our deceased classmates at our 40th. Now we have two. Another 25 people have passed in the last five years. It's mind-boggling.
I know we are in an age bracket where that happens. The next reunion we will likely graduate to three posters. And as I looked at those hopeful teenage faces, some of whom barely made it to their twenties, others who died in accidents or from cancer or another health issue, I thought about those I knew. Sweet Grady, so tall and thin and quiet and kind. Beautiful Ruth, who lived up the street and would walk to the bus stop with her blond hair wafting behind her. Brilliant, talented Herb, who once made a drawing of me in our art class without me knowing and presented it to me afterward. Paul, who was an awkward, amusing kid, and Linda and Reeves and Carlos and so many others who, when I saw their pictures all together, created a montage of memories... a saucy grin, a gracious word, a shared joke, a busy hallway between classes.
It's a wonderful thing, to live in the hearts and minds of the people who knew us for scores of different, flash-by moments. To be gone but not forgotten. To be remembered with love.
© 2019 A Bit of Brie/Anitabrie
