LIFE85 mini reunion

Initially, I was calling it, "Hey, Melanie and I are going for drinks. Wanna join us?" But no, I had to label it as a reunion and that was, well, awkward. Especially because only 3 of us made it.

For those of you not in the know, when I was 15 years old my high school Sacred Hearts Academy asked me to go on a retreat for student leaders. There was a mix of us -- the athletes, the student officers, the best students, and the ones they hoped against hope would become nuns and priests. I kind of think I was in the last category for them. I'm not really sure why they asked me to go. Most kids applied for their rising senior summer, not their rising junior summer. That had been my intention. But my best friend got in for our rising junior summer and I thought it might be fun to share that experience with her so I applied against my initial plan.

Looking back, it was a transformative camp. It's called, "Living In Faith Experience," and has been given by the Marianist order for years. There was an intimacy and vulnerability that we allowed ourselves -- so different from the usual high school experience of just trying to fit in. I suppose kids who went to summer camps could have similar experiences.

Anyway, this thing that should have been kept as, "Drinks with Mel & me," was in itself a transformative experience. The retreat happened in the bay area and a few of the people that were important to me then still live there. Ernesto was my "journey partner," my dyad buddy -- that's retreat speak for the person you got to process things one on one with. We found each other on Classmates years ago and exchanged emails -- caught up on each other's lives. It was so wonderful to renew that friendship. Melanie was a friend who became closer even after the retreat. She was a prolific writer of letters; I think I got one every week or two. She and Ernesto even came to meet me at the airport when I flew through on my way to Seattle from Hawaii during college. Both of them visited me in Hawaii after graduation. Jolyn was a fellow delegate from Sacred Hearts. Like with Mel, after the retreat she became an even closer friend. She was so nurturing; I remember her scolding me for using my teeth to bite stray thread off of my shirt because it would damage my teeth. Greg was a delegate from Ernesto's school. I was madly infatuated with Greg and on a moonlit night in the middle of a field at the camp, he gave me my first kiss. *le sigh*

So when I got a hold of Melanie and we decided to go out for drinks when I was in town last week, she thought it would be a hoot to invite  our fellow LIFErs. And I did. All except Greg.

I will freely admit that the fifteen year old girl inside of me was terrified to see him again. Not because I hold any residual attraction for him, but because I was so sloppily infatuated with him as a teen. I didn't know how I'd react. I hadn't had  a proper conversation with him I think ever; not a single conversation that was unclouded by a terrifying and confusing hormonal storm.

But last week, I decided not to be the jerk who would exclude one person from the invitation list. I invited him. And he said he could make it.

Crap.

I did the thing that any irrational middle aged woman would do -- I got physical therapy on my sprained ankle so I could wear the high heeled shoes that make my legs look longer and more shapely. I brought 3 different outfits so I would have options. I brought both the curling iron and the hair straightener because of obvious reasons. I went so far as to bring liquid eyeliner. Liquid. Eyeliner. I get points for that.

He offered to be our designated driver so Melanie parked at my brother's house and got to spend time with me and my family before Greg arrived. She helped me choose the right outfit and watched as I franticly freshened up my makeup. Parking is a hassle at my brother's so when Greg texted that he had arrived, Mel and I went outside to meet him. It is the modern day equivalent of honking the horn in front of a girl's house.

Conversation was surprisingly easy and comfortable.

Well, except for one thing.  I was asked when I was going back to Hawaii next. I told them it was next month. The usual murmurs of, "oh, how lucky..." and "wish I could go to Hawaii," followed. I told them that it was for my uncle's funeral. Said that my father and my uncles had conspired to ruin the two most joyous holidays in our faith -- Christmas and Easter. Then Greg, now a firefighter, talked about the bombing in Boston & the fertilizer plant fire at West Texas. He talked about his work in peer support for PTSD for first responders. That he's emboldened his faith in part because of what he's had to see in the line of duty.

Seriously, I had to stop Greg at that point. Because if we continued talking about such sad things, I was certain that I was going to start sobbing and be deep in my cups later. Drinking for solace versus drinking for celebration is an entirely different thing. The former is usually accomplished by high octane rot gut because why would you need to taste it?

I thought maybe I would tell a funny light hearted story. Talk about how my husband thinks I'm a cat person trapped in a dog owner's body. I love my dog to the point of madness. I have hundreds of pictures of my dog on my phone -- this despite having human offspring.

Then Melanie said, "You're going to feel like sh*t if I tell you this, but... I had to put my dog down today. I begged my dog to die naturally, but it didn't happen."

Crap.

But at that point, it was actually pretty funny.

I was surprised with the ease we spoke to each other. And it wasn't the booze (which was AMAZING -- Bar Agricole, seriously go check it out). I think it was LIFE. Something like that leaves an indelible mark on your psyche. We caught up on each others lives, talked about our families & kids, even our faith. We steered clear of politics on Greg's request but I'm pretty sure we all were fairly liberal, at least that's what I'd like to think. I hate it when I have friends who are wrong about their politics, and by wrong I mean don't agree with me. I didn't revert to fifteen year old me and that was a relief. But I did allow myself to care about these people again and acknowledge that our shared experience was an important part of the people we are today.

Maybe next time I'm in town, I'm thinking 2015, I'll throw another, "Drinks with Mel & me."

I'm never calling anything a mini-reunion again.