Almost a year ago, I wrote a blog about my 30 year high school reunion. I was anxious and nervous about how things would play out. As with most things we fear, the anticipation turns out to be far worse than the reality.
I have reconnected with more than 20 amazing, creative, successful and happy women who are approaching 50 with grace and humour. Listening to their stories, hearing the pride in their voices as they talk about their children. Hearing them sharing their academic successes, hearing them talk about the paths that they have traveled, was one of the most uplifting experiences of my life.
This is a very diverse group of women. There are academics, doctors, lawyers, engineers, accountants, full-time moms, entrepreneurs, teachers, an incredibly talented sculptor, businesswomen, artists, animal scientists, and the wanna-be writer (me). We are bound together by a shared experience whether we were close friends at school or not. The boarders and daygirls were quite distinct, but because I had been both, I had shared experiences with everybody, and I honestly can say that there wasn't anybody that I didn't like at school. The joy of seeing these people, some after 30 years or more, was indescribable.
I sat for a while next to someone with whom I have a very special bond, even though we haven't seen each other for 30 years. She went to primary school with me, and her mother died the year before mine. I remember my mom (already fighting for her life) telling me about her, and how I should be extra nice to her because she lost her mother. I realise that she was preparing me for her own death, and to see Anita again and talk about the terrible thing that happened to us both was very therapeutic.
The 1980s was a time of turbulence in this country. Things were changing politically, there was rebellion and revolution in the air, and there was also a culture of silence. We did not have counselling or therapy. Nobody talked about their pain, or fear. Each of us carried our individual burdens alone. How cathartic it is to look back now and say, I wasn't alone, even though it felt like it. One of the girls remarked that it wasn't only the girls who came top of the class who had made a success of their lives (although they did) - the real successes are the girls who thought they were worthless, or were different, or were outsiders. The girls who felt as if they didn't "fit in". Who felt alone and isolated, and who couldn't wait to leave school behind. Our class has triumphed over this, they have made peace with it. This is the true success of our class. We have all made peace with ourselves, and each other.
Our class lost three people too young. Raquel Aguirre, Mary-Ann Callendar and Carol-Ann Ramsden. Their spirits felt very close yesterday. Cazzie, Marzie and Callie, we missed you, and we wish you peace.
To everybody who didn't come because they felt that they couldn't face us for whatever reason, please read what I have written again, and make your own peace. Let's not wait another 30 years to see each other again.
Class of 1985, I salute you! You are all women of substance, I am inspired by you and I love you all.
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