Reunion…

My 40th high school reunion was fantastic! I had no expectations except having fun, but yesterday, after I got home from a whirlwind 25-hour trip, the experience settled in.

I suddenly got very emotional when I began telling Marty about the reunion since I hadn’t processed everything yet.

I started to cry when sharing the beautiful memories classmates had of me and what they thought of me now.

When my group of girl besties got together, it was as if no time had passed. Those true lifelong friends picked up where we left off 40 years ago.

The same thing happened when I saw my close guy friends, my friends from my grammar school at St. Cecelia’s, and the people who were in all my home rooms, which were always alphabetical.

Barry, who was the host and organizer, has the most school spirit of everyone. I was the cheerleading captain for most of my childhood and high school years, but when I walked out of those doors, I never looked back.

Our class of 1984 was very tight and still is today. When Barry surprised us with class t-shirts, we all yelled and laughed our asses off.

The memories classmates shared about me blew my mind. You never know other people’s perceptions or how you affect them.

I didn’t remember any of those memories until they began each memory. I could not believe the stuff they remembered. This made me so incredibly happy!

I was really surprised to learn that some of them read my blog daily and told me how much they liked it. This made me very proud.

Other classmates have watched our spätzle business grow since the very beginning. Again, another proud moment.

When I was leaving, one of my buddies told me I was such an important person in our class, and he was so happy I finally came to a reunion.

My absence was felt at all the other reunions. Wow! That made me feel good, too.

I was the most talkative girl in our class, but I never felt like I was an important person in my class, pretty or popular, as few said.

I was a loudmouth, sure, but pretty? I never felt pretty. To me, my friends were the pretty ones.

Anyway, this reunion meant the world to me. I felt great, was in tip-top shape, and was “back to normal me” from ages ago.

I knew I was still in there, and I could feel myself becoming extremely frustrated that I had been unable to claw my way out for so many years.

I found out that some of my classmates, whom I am in contact with on Facebook, didn’t want to come to the reunion because those weren’t good years for them.

Many people held grudges or how a few cruel words they heard affected them their entire lives.

Some didn’t two shits about school or a fuck about their classmates.

This saddens me. I wish I could have gone back in time and stuck up for them or tried to smooth things out, but I never knew.

It made me and some of my classmates realize that not everyone had as great a time as we did. They had horrible times.

This and the list of our classmates who have passed away is the hardest thing to process.

I guess your school years are what you make of them. Not everyone has confidence, an outgoing personality, intelligence, athleticism, musical, or singing talent.

People had shitty home lives. No one knew I did or that I was even adopted. I hid my ulcerative colitis very well, no one except a few close friends knew how sick I was in high school.

School was my place to be “me” and forget about my troubles. I had a great time and had a lot of fun.

I wasn’t smart or dumb; I was right in the middle of our class. I tried hard at everything I did, and besides homework, which I hated, I gave it my all.

These friendships, which I made in the third grade when we moved to Iselin, have withstood the test of time, and I cherish all of them.

Everyone called me Julz, and it felt right as though my name was Julz, as I had heard them all say it all along.

I told them the truth when people asked me why I went by Julz. The response was good for you, Julz! Yay!