When I graduated from High School I moved about 1400 miles (~2200 km) away and to another country. I left my friends, most of my family, and built a new life. Over the last two decades I have been back only a handful of times. Most of those trips have been for funerals. There was one trek home for a wedding. This weekend I came home again for a few short days.
Last night was my 20 year high school reunion. It was so good to see faces I haven’t seen in years. Many of the people there grew up just down the street from me.
The people in this photo I have known for as long as I can remember. We had sleepovers, parties, we went trick or treating together. Our parents knew if we weren’t home, we were with someone from this crowd. We were probably playing outside or biking/walking the well beaten path between our houses. We went to school together. We lived life together.
Krista F. and I grew up together too but not because of proximity. We were a part of a baton twirling group called the Halifax Sparklette Majorettes. We travelled, practiced, competed, and twirled through miles of parade routes too numerous to count. Our summers were filled with road trips to multiple cities for any reason possible to hold a parade. Our winters were filled with traveling all over the east coast to compete in endless competitions.
I met Michelle in high school. We became quick friends. There was a group of us always together. Amanda, Carrie, Cassandra, Krista G., Michelle, and I could be found roaming the halls and causing disruptions in class. In one particular subject Michelle, Krista, and I sat beside and behind one another. We talked and talked and talked. None of us were paying attention. We were loud. We were having fun. The teacher was not. We were separated. Each of us in a different corner. We didn’t have the ability to text in the nineties and passing notes was a little young for us but we had our own way of communicating. That poor teacher tried so hard but we still talked … across the entire room.
All of these people were as much a part of who I am today as my family. We grew up together and then we lost touch. Long before Facebook existed and mobile phones were smarter than fifth graders, we took our own paths that rarely ever crossed.
Last night I saw my childhood. We danced, we laughed, we reminisced. One of us would tell a story the rest of us had completely forgotten about and while we all laughed until we cried someone else would do the same. I was so busy enjoying myself I completely forgot to take pictures. I managed to get a couple that will forever be treasured. I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.
Twenty years went by so quickly and yet we didn’t miss a beat. We picked up like I never moved away, like life stopped where we parted and started again when we reconnected. We talked like we had no cares. Our conversations that did not involve memories from our childhood now revolved around our families and the children we all have that the others have never met.
I was hesitant about coming back. Not only is it usually much colder in Canada than in the south but travel is expensive. Was it worth the cost of airfare and a hotel? Absolutely. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Well, maybe not the hotel part. I caught a lot of flak from these lifelong friends and the family I have still living here that I will most likely spare that expense next time.
If you have friends like these in your life, cherish them. Don’t let 20 years go by without getting a hug or a laugh or a once forgotten memory that brings smiles so big your face hurts. Lifelong friends aren’t that common but they are certainly quite special.
(A huge thank you goes out to James Hingley, Lee Rodgers, and Megan Rodgers for organising what I can only imagine was a ton of work.)
Oily Minded Medic 