Oh, yes. We were cheerleaders, photographers, majorettes, editors, athletes, bandmembers, choristers, friends. We gathered together last weekend at a beautiful harborside hotel after all these gentle decades. (I will not reveal how many decades; suffice it to say folks displayed photos of their grandkids this time, not their offspring LOL.)
Last Friday, I still felt so ill my hero said, Maybe you better stay home. I don't mind going by myself.
I giggled back. What? Do you can hook up with the Homecoming Queen again? Besides, I reminded him. We had a hotel room, and I could take a nap if I needed to.
But I didn't. I stayed on my feet and held my own. Maybe it was happy memories, fun people, great music. Wine. I still sneezed and coughed (the cough was the worst, it came upon me Friday...after I went to the doctor on Thursday of course!) but everybody was hoarse by Sunday brunch.
The best thing about it: Everybody is still recognizable. Although hair colors have changed...as well as the amounts on top LOL.
Another best thing: A bunch of the old herd reads my books! Yowza. In fact, my business cards were the ones making the rounds for everybody else's e-mail addys and phone numbers. So hopefully my rep will spread even more.
The room was beautifully chosen, French doors opening onto the marina and beautiful springtime breeze blowing through all the well-placed windows. No big-box impersonal ballroom for us. The co-chairman Phyllis set me to work on the centerpieces. So fitting. Seashell-trimmed straw chargers with glass hurricanes, candles set in sand, surrounded by more shells and orchids. Perfect.
A hospitality suite beforehand...and dinner rocked. Salmon. I hadn't eaten much for days but this went down so easy.
Two teachers came. Our music teacher directed those of us who'd been in the choirs in the Alma Mater. (The committee had wisely printed out the lyrics again.) I had to tell our popular poetry teacher about the Williams Carlos Williams poem we studied that has never left me. The one about the plums you were saving for breakfast. Wow.
Poignant: A little memorial to those of us who now live with God. Including my twin brother Mike who will be a blog all his own...he left me last Christmas and I can barely breathe sometimes.
We had alums there all the way from Manhattan, Chicago, Minnesota, Oregon. I hit up the Manhattanite right away. Amazingly, I know right where she lives...near the UN. (We'd strolled their one night during our trip last June, struck by the charming residential architecture.)
One buddy, the class shutterbug, couldn't attend, but he sent tons of snapshots he'd taken over the years. I took a few pix from the collage to frame. As my hero told our kids, Mom looks about nine.
The former mayor of L.A. emcee'd. We girls danced in swarms. (What is it about guys who won't dance with their ladies?) And a great time was had by all.
Oh, by the way. The Homecoming Queen wasn't able to make it back here from New Orleans...she'd just been out in June visiting her family.
We missed her.
But three of the four princesses made it!
And the grand conclusion was, we don't dare wait ten more years to get together again. There's already a committee afoot for a five-year.
January 10 has already been carved in stone for a mini-gathering. Golf for the guys, bike ride for the girls. Followed by wine and whatever.
Well, enough reminiscing. I better get something done.
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