Recycling Extraordinaire

It’s a new year: 2018. We didn’t die before we got old, as Roger Daltry, of The Who’s ‘Our Generation’ sang. We’re here and now, craving recollection, connection, life meanings that resonate like middle C. (Mardi Gras is coming, so this little girl picture tickles me.)

So let me review some 2017 highlights that have replenished my life force, people who hung out with me, abided me, and had fun doing silly stuff on a  whim back when – we were high school kids. People who’ve re-entered my life, mutually forgetting the foolish antics of the past to forge forward in harmony. Extraordinary!

People I hadn’t seen in 50 years. Yikes, how time flies!

People who dropped out – or maybe I did. People who dropped back in, in unexpectedly delightful ways.

We’re re-treads. We are recycled teens, people who are still young at heart, and connected there, too. We have more to give to each other to honor our past, a bright future to seek and share.

  1. There’s Nancy, who responded to our Christmas card announcement and bought my first book. She emailed me recognition and shared her giggled perspective. Unexpected and quite nice. Validation from an insider, who knew me when, suffering together through Shakespeare in English class.
  2. There’s Trish’s use of iPad to FaceTime patch me in to reunion frivolity. She knew of this process because she had a daughter living in Tibet. Truly out-of-this-world for Medaryville, Indiana, a small town on life support, as my friends who live there say. BTW, I don’t think Trish suffered in English. No matter – I’m the one who writes 😉
  3. There’s Bob who’s become a mogul and owner of the downtown bar, expanded beyond it’s dark hallowed hall. The bar is the town mecca. Bob’s the mayor and still a quite affable man, capable in leadership and love for all.
  4. There’s Aileen who welcomed me to her home for a brief stay – coincidentally in great time of need, the birthdate of her daughter who’d passed on. She’s truly the connector, as she was back then. The cheerleader who was everyone’s pal – and still is.
  5. There’s Connie, Don, Bill, Thelma, Connie, and Avanelle. 33 kids in our class. Total. Extraordinary.

    Recycled and retreaded friendship, lending its meaning and depth to my life.

    The ordinary becoming extraordinary, refreshing beyond compare.

    Vital.

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