Cherished Friendships

As I wind down my week on the East Coast, reconnecting with family and dear friends, I reflect on ideas shared over coffee, lunch, dinner, and cocktails.

Meeting with high school classmates, I am brought instantly back to the late 70s. We may be a bit older and have had interesting experiences, but it is like no time has passed. I am so blessed to have these friends in my life but am a bit saddened that I waited so long to get to truly know them. However, I am mindful that we don't really know ourselves until we reach our 40s.

Earlier in the office center of my hotel, I overheard two twenty-something girls wish they could go back to high school. Most people, when asked, would rather have a root canal than go back to high school. Sometimes, I think I would love a do-over, a chance to go back to high school knowing what I know now. Perhaps that is why I have the desire to impart my children with my new found wisdom! But, some lessons need to be learned first-hand.

Our high school years are spent figuring out our identities and struggling with Calculus, acne, or a goofy grin. We are worried nobody likes us yet we may not even like ourselves. The four brief years spent in high school may not seem critical or life-altering until years later, as we attend reunions or turn the pages of our now dated yearbooks. We may not realize at the time, but the shared experiences of our teen years do inspire a close bonding. Classmates who may not even have spoken much outside of class may become close friends as adults.

As an idealist, I tend to form unattainably high expectations for most of my experiences. I expected high school to be John Hughes film with all the warm fuzzies or at least a cute guy in a red Porsche coming to take me away. I enjoyed my time spent learning, laughing with friends, chatting about our crushes or what we would wear. I wish I had slowed down and paid more attention to each moment. At my high school graduation, I remember becoming tearfully aware that this part of my life had passed. But, as this week has proven to me, you can go home again.