Posted by: brambledoula | September 13, 2007

Ten Whole Years

My ten year high school reunion is coming up this late November. I won’t be able to make it since it’s like 3 weeks before my due date and I refuse to sit in a car for the 23 hour drive to upstate NY that hugely pregnant. I was looking down the list of people who’ve RSVP’d tho, and I’m not even really sad that I’m not going. I really haven’t regularly kept in touch with a single person from high school. Every once in a blue moon someone will hunt me down online and we’ll touch base, but never regularly, and never resuming those old friendships. Even worse, I don’t even recognize the names of at least 85% of the people signed up to go. I spent a good 6 years with these people, from 7th-12th grade and I have no clue who they are. And I don’t even mean the “oh I barely knew them” or “the name sounds familiar but I can’t put a face to it”. No, literally I do not even remotely recognize 85% of the names. How weird is that? I was one of those people that most people knew who I was (I was a Choralier, our select singing group, that and the jazz band and chamber orchestra made you fairly recognizable), but only kept to a select few close friends. The few people I was excited about touching base with have already dropped me an email and said hey, and left and update, and now I don’t really feel any need to go see them at all. Most of the people I would have loved to see, either aren’t going, or were in the grade ahead of me, so I wouldn’t see them anyhow. Still, something in me remains a little sad just at the passage of time. I remember my best friend’s dad (said friend of which I haven’t spoken to in years as well…) telling us at graduation that in five years everyone we knew would be married and have children. We laughed so hard only to see…he was right.

Old Friends (2:35) MIDI
P. Simon, 1968
Old friends
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends

Old friends
Winter companions
The old men
Lost in their overcoats
Waiting for the sunset
The sounds of the city
Sifting through the trees
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fear…

Bookends Theme (1:23) MIDI
P. Simon, 1968
Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; They’re all that’s left you


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