Last weekend a lot of my old classmates got together to celebrate 40 years since we graduated from high school. Yep, 40 year reunion. I really am older than dirt.
I didn't attend. For one thing, it's all the way across the country. For another, high school was a really long time ago. Well, I mean, 40 years. A lot of water under the bridge. And for another, you should hear how conversations shut down when people ask "What do you do?" and you answer "I'm a missionary." They either start talking all gooey, or they walk away, or they start testing you, like, "How can you be a missionary when you aren't a perfect person?" or they make jokes about the missionary position. It's a real conversation killer.
It's been fun to sort of stalk the reunion on Facebook, though, and look at pictures and try to recognize people. It's astounding how many people I DIDN'T know in my graduating class. I wish I'd gotten to know more of them.
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And it's a relief to see that I'm not the exception. The rest of them have gotten older too, and on most of them, it shows. They're really not preserved in amber, still young and beautiful like they are in my mind. And maybe that's another good reason not to go the reunion: for now, they can stay in my memories frozen in time. And I can maintain the illusion for a little longer that while I may BE older than dirt, it doesn't show.