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A Spouse's Guide to the Class Reunion, by Mary Mulvihill, July 2003
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To
go or not to go? Let
him make the call. Of
course, I will attend To visit family and old friends. St.
Pat's Class of '63 Kept
the phone lines hot Deciding
where to stay And whether to golf or not. Friday
night at T.J.'s Bar We
knew the place by our parents' cars- Heavy
on Buicks and Lincolns. minivans, some SUVs, And one shiny, new, black Harley. Once
inside the door, we found the crowd, Easily
recognized with greetings loud. Men
with graying hair and/or balding heads, Grasping
mugs, shaking hands, giving way to hugs. While most women had hair colored, some even red. St.
Pat's Class of '63 Milled
around the center of the room Gesturing
animatedly Figuring out which was whom. Meanwhile,
brave spouses sat around the perimeter of the bar Conversing
with other outsiders, Talking
of connections, kids and traveling from afar. Others were staring bar-stool riders When
former steady-friends appeared There
was a slight hesitation on all sides, Each
thinking what did he or she have to hide? After
forty years there was but the slightest jealousy. Would
old relationships ever again be? My
competition was fashionable be it told, Bedecked
with many jewels and gold. But
did I detect wrinkles? Or
was it a dream? Could
it be from too much golf in the Florida sun With too little sunscreen? Was
there a secret alarm in T.J.'s Audible
only to the Class of '63? For
by 10:30, with only a very few left socializing All others, with thoughts of sleep and golf, were retiring. Morning
came quickly after a restless night. The
golfers were up at first light To
make their early tee times. There
would be no competition on this day. Classmates were glad to reminisce during their easy play. After
lunch there was a big decision to make... To
imbibe at Sbertoli's old house Or
consider our choice and take A
nap (the winner), To
stay awake During dinner. The
country club, though light and spacious Was
in sharp contrast to the crowded T.J.'s dingy Dimness
that was so gracious To the aging process of the Class of '63. More
mixing and conversation, Now
there was light enough to see our progeny, Lots
of photographs of families-- Some ancient parents, and many precious grandbabies. After
a lovely dinner with a program planned well, It
was the time for leaving, all could tell. They
voted to meet again in just five years, And
so the Class of '63 departed with only a few tears. |
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