Sorority Reunion

A Sorority Reunion

I graduated U.C.L.A. in 1961. It scares me to even write that date let alone conjure up what all that those many years mean. I am sure they mean as many things to as many people who are still alive and still have the memory to remember what it is like to be 49 years away from those days. We scheduled and held a sorority reunion on a lovely, warm October Saturday.

Many people who were invited did not come to the event.  I know exactly how they feel; they would rather a Mac truck hit them than attend anything like a reunion. As I said, I know how they feel, but I feel differently.  Of course the day of the event and some days leading up to it, I hated my hairstyle, worried that I hadn’t maintained my acceptable appearance, my weight was not what I wanted it to be, but hasn’t been where I wanted it for years. I worried that they would have accomplishments way greater than mine, or that they would have nothing to say to me and I, nothing to them.

Worries and or no worries, the reunion came to pass and I was there. The ones that did not come won’t know and the ones that did will take away what they need. I needed to see that everyone was the same person, with the same hopes dreams and desires even forty-nine years later. Nothing much has changed except the marching of time and what time does physically and mentally. Everyone at the reunion was in tact. The singers sang. The leaders led, the talkers talked while listeners listened. The doers did and the watchers watched. Most tooted their own horns while a few shy ones got their horns tooted by good friends. Everyone was happy and friendly.  I thought of my dearly departed Judy and how much she would have loved being there with everyone. After the event, I wanted to call heaven and talk it over with her. She would have loved, absolutely loved some of the stories.  Since she is not here and I can’t call heaven, I will tell you.

At all of the reunions in the past, one of the gals who will forever remain nameless, goes around secretly and takes the purses of people she wants to sit at her table. She strategically places them on the chairs surrounding the table that she deems hers. Every year she takes mine, but this year, she did not take my purse, others took my place. I was surprised, but realized that she, like a mother bird, lets her fledglings go when they are strong enough to fly.  I was thrilled with my new table and made new friends from the old. I was after forty-nine years strong enough to fly on my own.

Another lady realized that she needed to come to the reunion to make peace with her self. Some wanted to use it as a forum for advertising things like elder care and for up coming musical shows and venues. Others wanted to tell of current updates on volunteer and charity opportunities. One family donated a wing to the new UCLA hospital. Some wanted to reconnect with people and others wanted to relive youth and be with their oldest friends. And probably those who were initially hesitant about attending this reunion realized that this was the event they wouldn’t have wanted to miss. As songs were sung and hands were held many wonderful memories were shared along with jovial reminiscing. Who can argue with that?

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