Looking for Me

Early high school is difficult. Everyone is trying to fit in, to at least not be different from the mainstream, and to find his place in the scheme of things. When a parent keeps tight strings, life is difficult, and all at once, one is different. My dad worked second shift and my mom had to be the parent at home in the evening. To keep control of us kids, she had to keep us close to home. As a result, she didn't allow me to hang out at the Crest, the local mom and pop candy/soda/sundae shop with the rest of the kids. I couldn't go to the Friday night movies because she didn't approve. I thought she was so mean because she made me different among my peers. On Monday mornings, I had to listen to kids talking about who sat with whom, who was seen making out with whom, and who had a wonderful time meeting new boys. My life was miserable.

There were no boys for me. They just weren't interested. I wasn't out there to be seen and there were no opportunities to meet boys outside of school. In school, I was smart and athletic and wore glasses...not a great combination. Boys were not attracted by such attributes. Ninth grade was difficult when most girls were becoming very social and I didn't fit in that way. The traditional 9th grade dance was held at the end of the school year. Yup, you guessed it...I wasn't invited by any of the boys in school. There were rumors that a shy boy named Tom was going to ask me, but it didn't happen. At the last minute, I think he went with someone else. My friend Barbara and I commiserated. She wasn't asked to the dance either. Thank goodness we had each other. It was the only way we survived the night.

Peter

I have been busy lately. My high school class's last reunion was not well-attended and I have been trying to find lost classmates using google search, Facebook, LinkedIn, and word of mouth. A recent search on google found several classmates and I tested the findings by sending letters to several people with hopes of receiving information from them in return. So far, I have received one letter.

The letter was from one of my classmates with whom I hadn't been well-acquainted and when I realized that he lives in the same town as me, I was appalled that I didn't know. He wrote a 4 page letter and told me what he has done over the last 40 years, a chronicle of names, jobs, dates. It was pleasantly written and well-organized. He is not in good health and I immediately felt compassion for this lonely, retired classmate. I remembered him as he was in school, a person who broke into our class in junior high, who had moved to our town as a young teenager from the Boston area. I believe he had a hard time fitting in to our small high school. He was not exceptionally attractive, not a fabulous student, and I don't think he had many good friends.

But it was wonderful to make contact with someone from the past. As sick as he is, he had taken a lot of time to write and explain his life to me. I felt it was my duty to honor that and to call him to wish him well and to thank him for being the one person out of ten to let me know that he was glad to be found. I called, we chatted, and he seemed happy to know that someone cared. We talked for an hour about our lives and how we were both happy to still be hanging in there.

I will keep him in mind, perhaps try to visit, and enjoy the memories.