A couple of months ago, I wrote an article about my high school classmates. My pastor father had accepted the pastorate of a country church near Essex, Iowa. Essex is a very small town. If you blink on the highway going by, you’ll miss it.
But the people of the area have put down generational roots. That meant that I’d be going to a high school where most of the students had been together since kindergarten. I wasn’t from the area. I didn’t know anyone and I brought my own transportation—my wheelchair. For all that, the small town community high school students welcomed me. For the two years I attended—my first two years were taken at home in rural Kansas—were filled with good friends and classmates who included me as much as possible in their activities.
Over the years, I attended a few of my high school reunions, but this year 2019 was our 50th year. I wanted to attend, even though it meant being in Iowa over the Labor Day weekend. That meant celebrating Keith’s birthday September 1st away from home and family. It also meant celebrating our 45th anniversary at a restaurant on our way home Monday the 2nd.
Still we went. The big event was Saturday night at a winery with pizza. (One was made special for me.) We sat around round tables and laughed, talked and caught up on each other’s lives. Since it was more difficult for me to mingle, Keith and I stayed at our table. But throughout the evening, almost every one of my classmates sat down—men and women—and talked with me. Some asked about my books and said they wished I’d brought some along. One classmate told me she decided to attend when she heard I was coming. A formal class picture was taken, but many informal pictures were snapped during the evening. Each classmate received a well-put-together memory folder, a school hat and mug It was an evening for making memories.
The next day Keith and I attended the Lutheran church with its beautiful stained glass windows for the community service held each Labor Day weekend. The day’s offering and the donation for the luncheon held afterward were donated to charity. At luncheon we met others who connected me with my dad and welcomed us.
We left Monday after not finding our class parade float That was OK. It won anyway!
On the way home, we stopped in Lincoln to have a late lunch with our son and three oldest grandkids. The weekend helped me reconnect with my past and added a layer of precious memories. I was so glad I went.
By Carolyn R Scheidies