A Bittersweet Reunion

The email arrived on New Year’s Eve.  A high school friend was terminally ill.  The diagnosis was two short months earlier.  The prognosis was bleak.  She passed away the next day.  

It was a shock.  Although now that we are in our early 60s and immortality is no longer a given, it is still unsettling to think that at our age we will be receiving more of these notifications with increasing frequency.   

We were a tight-knit group in high school and remained in touch throughout the years, primarily at our reunions and occasional gatherings if we were passing through cities where our friends lived.  Some of us remained in Redondo Beach, and many others scattered to various parts of the country, but we continued to keep our friendships strong.

When Carrie’s Celebration of Life was announced for April in Mesa, Arizona, there was no hesitation about going.    Seven of us arrived on Friday and took over a large rental home – this place had a pool, pool table, shuffleboard, corn hole, putt-putt court and – get this – a foosball table.  But we wanted to spend time catching up with each other, and except for a few rounds of billiards and one guest venturing into the pool, they remained unused.

Three of us were from Southern California, three others from the Bay area, and one from New York.   Inconvenient?  Maybe.  Spending extra money for an unexpected trip?  Yes.  Yet there was no doubt that we would be there to toast Carrie and be there for Mike as he navigates an abrupt life change and sad new journey.

The weekend was bittersweet.   Gathering at the memorial of a friend is tough.  I regret that I hadn’t kept in touch as often as I could have.   You always think there is time to meet up later.  Until there is no “later.”

What was great about the weekend:  I saw what an incredible life Carrie and Mike created.  They have a legacy of sons, in-laws and grandchildren.  They lived life fully, traveled abundantly, welcomed all into their lovely home, and their network and support system is immense.  Mike is not alone as he invents his new future.  

Several of us smiled during the celebration as we heard a chatty little bird – a Great Tailed Grackle – it consistently returned to the back yard and vocally announced its presence. We decided it was channeling Carrie and helping us to celebrate her. It broke into song at very appropriate breaks in the speeches.

At the service, Mike acknowledged us for coming all the way to be there.  There was some surprise that so many high school buddies were there from other states.  (Most of us have been friends since elementary school.)    We were blessed that we loved our high school experience.   I hear that so many people didn’t like high school.  It’s hard to imagine.  I have gone back to campus and homecoming on occasion.  It brings back fond memories.

One of the best parts?  Lots of laughter and enthusiastic conversation at our VRBO as we sat on the patio or around the kitchen table.  “Do you remember…?”  “What happened to…?”  “What do you do these days?”  “What is your son up to?”  One friend I had completely lost touch with after high school.   Forty-five years later it feels like we are back to being great friends again.    We agreed, as happens often when attending a memorial, is that we must plan to meet up just because, and not because of loss.   We are already considering some ideas for more impromptu, informal gatherings than every five years at a reunion.

We did discover that the house was too sophisticated for us and learned how many college-educated boomers it takes to:

• Work a newer model Keurig pod/carafe machine (2)
• Turn on the dishwasher (3)
• Open the patio sliding door (at least 2, and since it immediately closed again you had to be prepared for a back up buddy to hold it open while you carried your bagel and coffee to the patio)
• Work the washing machine (not sure – it finally started five minutes after 2 of us gave up and walked away)
• Work the ceiling fan in a bedroom (0) (Trick question – the fan remotes in two rooms were switched and the maintenance guy discovered that)
• Turn off the garbage disposal (2)
• Turn on the kitchen faucet (1 with an audience of 1)
• Change the light bulb on the front porch (it could have been 1 but there were no replacement light bulbs – bless that maintenance man!)
• Find the iron (1 but why the heck was the iron put in the closet in the bedroom that was furthest away from the laundry room??)
• Set the thermostat to 75 upon checkout (4+ and then we gave up – apparently there was an access code we were not provided with. We’ll take it as a win)

We also had time on Sunday to play tourists before we caught our various flights or pointed our cars west.  John, Carl and Scott roamed around the glorious Botanical Gardens. 

Kat, Katie and I (the Three Kathleens) rambled around Goldfield Ghost Town and Mammoth Mine, where we rode a train, went down a mine, and explored a Mystery Shack, which was reminiscent of the one at Knott’s Berry Farm.  It was also a good history lesson of gold mining in the 1890s. 

Oh, and don’t get me started on navigating Sky Harbor airport.  For all of you who complain about LAX, it’s a delightful walk in the park compared to trying to pick up and drop off travelers in Phoenix.   That is a blog post for another time.

This weekend reminded me how precious time is.  Make an extra effort to spend time with those you care about.  Just because…