Having a childhood friend is a real gift.  We have a history.  He knew my parents and the sisters.  We have a connection I do not necessarily understand but it is there.  He is retired now.  I am not working so I can visit him any time.  He and I were on our high school tennis team.  In our freshman year, in the county championship we played second doubles and won and the newspaper reporter covering the match called us ‘peanut sized freshman’. (???) He did grow up to be six foot.  I didn’t.  Now he lives with his wife in New Orleans.  He used to live in Ohio and we camped in PA for at least five years in a row in a state park somewhat equidistant from our homes.  We have seen each other at least the last eight years once a year.  We had a long period we were out of touch–over thirty years.  I did not know where he lived but my sister went to a high school reunion and I found out from her what city he lived in and I tracked him down.  He still makes me laugh with his wry, understated humor.  And I found out we still have a “connection”.  We never run out of things to discuss.  Not many people have that kind of history with a childhood friend.  We attended the same grammar school grades and high school.  I know he is a real gift.

I am hesitant to go to a high school reunion.  For many reasons.  Maybe, the main reason is there is nothing there for me any longer.  It is over forty years ago I graduated from high school.  I still remember going back to my hometown in the early seventies and I realized I could not go back.

All the people I knew were either in college or had moved away.  The racial complexion of my community had changed drastically.  Then it had become mostly Cuban.

Considerably more time has passed since then.  I am not the same person.  Of course, there are other reasons.  All these people have become strangers.  For that matter, the few people I wanted to keep up with I did.  There were not many.  Two of them were on the tennis team I played.

There is always the fear no one will remember me although I am always curious what memories anyone had of me.  If any?!  Another reason is I fear I may not have anything to show for my life.  Some people may have become doctors, teachers and hold advanced degrees.  I have none.

The last fear is one I have to resist.  To some degree I have done what I wanted to, which is to write although I have not made a living from it.  I never had to.  There may be no reason to connect with anyone.  There is too much “posturing” that goes on in these reunions.

Time is really fleet.  It seemed like I just graduated from high school and that is just an illusion.  A lifetime has gone by.  Sometimes I do not know how to account for that.  And maybe that is my worst fear.  I squandered my precious time.