High school reunion a perfect time for reflection

Forty-five years ago, I graduated from Wenatchee High School in Washington state.

Now I'm attending our class reunion. Anticipating that event, I've been reflecting on lessons I've learned since graduation.

The year we reached for our diploma, Richard Nixon was president. The draft was populating our military presence in Vietnam. Earth Day was first introduced as an environmental holiday.

In 1970, Clearasil was the drug of choice. Image was everything. What we wore mattered almost as much as who we hung out with. Jocks. Greasers. Band geeks. Drama nerds. Smokers. Students.

Actually, we were all students. Many were average. Some were good students. A handful were really good. Those below average were smarter than their grades indicated.

And then we graduated. (Well, most of us did). Attending Friday night football games gave way to focusing on the game of life. Concerns over lost homework would give way to attempts to lose weight or finding ways to deal with the loss of moms, dads and mates. Some are even attempting to cope with a diagnosis of memory loss.

Preoccupation with pimples on our faces gave way to fixation with pictures on Facebook. Wearing our hair the right way has given way to feeling grateful for the hair we have left.

What mattered 45 years ago doesn't seem to matter so much. What does matter is time with children and grandchildren and the privilege of caring for the needs of aging parents.

Students who mocked those who were quick to verbalize their faith in high school are more apt to embrace the need of God as their own health declines, or as family issues find them on their knees. Meanwhile, those who tended to be a bit Pharisaical about their faith as students are more inclined to be less legalistic.

As the obituary page increasingly includes names and faces of our classmates, we are soberly reminded that every memorial service we attend is one closer to our own. In high school it seemed like we had forever. Now we know how brief life really is. That every day is a gift.

Five years ago, I emceed our 40-year reunion. As I prepared to pass the mic for classmates to share their thoughts, I felt prompted to say, "Let's not take this gathering for granted. Who's to say who will be missing next time we gather?"

My buddy Bob took the microphone and told everyone how much he loved them. The next day he died in his sleep.

A couple months ago one of our classmates shared on Facebook that she'd been given six weeks to live. Recognizing she likely wouldn't live long enough to attend our reunion, Chris shared her love with us.

It was amazing to see how our class responded with words of affection, encouragement and compassion. After 45 years, kids loosely connected on a high school campus have become a family.

As I approach our "family reunion," my heart is heavy contemplating the list of names I will be handed to read aloud. Names of those who have died since we were handed our diplomas.

At the same time, my heart is grateful for one more opportunity to interact in person with those who are more than a young face in an old yearbook. Those with whom I will gather are far more than a clever post on a Facebook page. They are people with whom I share a common past and an unpredictable future.

They are people like me who have discovered the things that matter most in life were learned in the years following graduation.

• The Rev. Greg Asimakoupoulos is a former Naperville resident and Neighbor columnist who wrote regularly about faith and family.