This last weekend, I took my Mom to her 60th high school reunion. It is an hour outside of Denver in the small little town of Kiowa. I did not want her driving at night especially with my Dad unable to attend. He still had one more performance in the Show he was in.
So I offered my services as driver, she accepted. A classmate of hers also lived nearby and so after picking up my Mom in the pouring rain, we went on to pick up Mary and her husband, Jim. It was 4:30 when we left and it rained the whole way. The original high school that my Mom attended has been turned into a museum. They were giving tours but the rain stopped us from walking the short distance.
With umbrellas protecting us from the torrential rain, we walked into the new High School. My Mom was surrounded by people she knew from so long ago, and it seemed as if the door to those days stood wide open. I saw my Mom as a school girl and all her friends in the same way. They exchanged hugs and stories. There were two tables for the Class of 1955. One man from the next table over, yelled to one of the ladies I was sitting with. "Elsie is that you? You look as good as you did in high school." She giggled like a school girl and her face took on a pinkish tinge as she said to me, "It's like we're 18 again."
In a graduating class of fourteen, three have passed away. Two were not able to come, but nine attended. The Class of 1965 had a table and when their speaker came to the podium, he said, "Everyone in his class was somehow part of the military. Either they enlisted or were drafted. They all came back, but Vietnam had taken a part of each of them." He went on to say that the Class of '55 were Preachers but the Class of '65 were Fighters. The Class of 1975 reported on their classmates as did the Class of 1985 and 1995. Other classmates came to the reunion from years other than the ones listed above and sat together. One man came from the Class of 1947. The National Honor Society served the meal which was delicious.
The tablecloths were school colors of Orange and Black with the class of 2015 sitting at the head table. I'm not sure but it seemed as if there only nine students graduating.
As the Alumni welcomed them into the ranks of being Kiowa High School Alumni, some rolled their eyes. Others left early and one showed up so late that he missed all but the last fifteen minutes. It was right and proper because those at the head table were still living their high school days, still dreading finals, still waiting for ten days to pass before their graduation ceremony, still have yet to begin lives on their own.
Maybe that's why I love the Regency Period so much. It connects me with a time and a place that is forever gone. But can be accessed through pictures and books. It's not quite the same, but it is as close as we can ever get to it. We keep it alive. We visit there often enough and though only fictional characters the essence of those times spill into our lives as we join in their laughter and tears.
So I offered my services as driver, she accepted. A classmate of hers also lived nearby and so after picking up my Mom in the pouring rain, we went on to pick up Mary and her husband, Jim. It was 4:30 when we left and it rained the whole way. The original high school that my Mom attended has been turned into a museum. They were giving tours but the rain stopped us from walking the short distance.
With umbrellas protecting us from the torrential rain, we walked into the new High School. My Mom was surrounded by people she knew from so long ago, and it seemed as if the door to those days stood wide open. I saw my Mom as a school girl and all her friends in the same way. They exchanged hugs and stories. There were two tables for the Class of 1955. One man from the next table over, yelled to one of the ladies I was sitting with. "Elsie is that you? You look as good as you did in high school." She giggled like a school girl and her face took on a pinkish tinge as she said to me, "It's like we're 18 again."
The tablecloths were school colors of Orange and Black with the class of 2015 sitting at the head table. I'm not sure but it seemed as if there only nine students graduating.
As the Alumni welcomed them into the ranks of being Kiowa High School Alumni, some rolled their eyes. Others left early and one showed up so late that he missed all but the last fifteen minutes. It was right and proper because those at the head table were still living their high school days, still dreading finals, still waiting for ten days to pass before their graduation ceremony, still have yet to begin lives on their own.
Maybe that's why I love the Regency Period so much. It connects me with a time and a place that is forever gone. But can be accessed through pictures and books. It's not quite the same, but it is as close as we can ever get to it. We keep it alive. We visit there often enough and though only fictional characters the essence of those times spill into our lives as we join in their laughter and tears.
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