Seniors

Yesterday I received a card in the mail cordially inviting me to my 20 year class reunion. Being in my usual morning rush I dumped the card along with the cable bill and National Geographic onto the kitchen counter where it sat for three days until I finally found the time to sort through the mess. I scanned down the list of names of former class mates trying to bring forth a visual image of each. I was surprised by how few I could recall. Aggravated by my memory lapse I pulled out a few dusty yearbooks to put faces with names. For a good hour or so I thumbed through my past caught in reverie wondering who the hell these people were that signed my yearbook claiming we'd be "Forever Friends."

It seemed impossible that 20 years had passed since the bright eyed future of tomorrow stepped forth to take their places among the work force of America hoping to make it big. 20 years of turmoils and martinis, chaos and kids. Now, pushing 40 we were all invited to embellish our pasts for one another and act as if we'd never said goodbye. But the fact is we did say goodbye. We went our separate ways and led our separate lives. And as much as I hate to admit it, senior discounts are closer in years than senior proms and I am very likely entering my mid-life years. As we age and days blend into years and years into a lifetime, how do we keep our eyes bright and the future hopeful? Is it possible to hold onto the same kind of optimism that made us believe it was truly likely we'd be forever friends -- forever young? Will we feel like high school seniors when we reach our senior years?