Well dear readers, on May 3rd, I had my 25th high school reunion. A group of us who had graduated from a rather small school in Waterbury, Connecticut gathered at the home of a friend to celebrate and reminisce. While the drinks flowed and food sated, the seven of us who graduated together along with the two honorary class members, spouses – and one child – caught up on the happenings of the past quarter century.
Most of us made it through college. Most of us still find ourselves in the Northeast while others are spread out around the US. We are teachers, businesspeople, housewives — I even think we have a massage therapist [i]n the mix. Some of us partnered up earlier than others; some of us are still single. Some have children who are ready for college; some have their first on the way. We are intimates of a sort because we have known each other for around thirty years, crossing in and out of each others’ lives to one degree or another, yet we have much to learn about each other. And learn we did. As the old expression goes, in vino veritas. I would add also, in cosmo veritas. I’ll leave it at that.
Now, most of my comrades are in male-female couples, and you might expect that to have lead to the old hackneyed complaints that begin with “Men just don’t understand….” and “Why don’t women….” There wasn’t much of that, except for the women present wishing they had a wife. I’ll leave that one alone, too.
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