Today I went to a graduation party for my college friend's daughter. In 1973, Mary and I lived next door to one another in Whitby Hall (the same dorm and same floor my daughter Mary lived on this year). One might assume I would know no one at a college buddy's kid's graduation, but no. I knew the entire family intimately. One of them, her brother-in-law very intimately, yeah, in the biblical sense. Tim was my boyfriend for five years, junior year in high school through junior year in college.
I would by lying if I didn't say I cared about how I looked for this affair. I put on two outfits before choosing jean capris, an aqua stretch tank and a loose knit sleeveless top over that. Green, kitten-heeled slides on my feet. Oh, and dangling blue earrings from Chicos.
After greeting the graduate and her mother, Tim's oldest sister came up to re-introduce herself. It had been 28 years since I've seen most of these people. She was sweet and urged me to go and say hi to her parents. Luckily Tim wasn't there yet, I got to ease myself into this reunion with the boyfriend's family. As I walked up to the patio table, Shirley, Tim's step-mom said, "Oh my goodness, here's the girl who should have been our daughter-in-law!" I hugged as kissed both she and her husband, Harold. He leaned over and said, "I always loved you. I cried when you broke up with Tim you know," to which I replied, "I THINK he broke up with me." Everyone laughed.
I introduced my friend, and freshman roommate, Mary Ann, who by that time was desperately wishing she had driven her own car. Harold leaned over to her and repeated, "I loved her!"
As I was just beginning to fill a plate with a pulled chicken sandwich and several church basement salads, the long broken-up-with boyfriend arrived. I have to admit, he looked fabulous, fit, trim, close-cut graying hair. He approached with a huge smile and arms wide open. Nothing to do but return the hug and turn quickly to his pert, blond wife, Lisa, and greet her. He engaged me in "catching up" right there in the food line. Mary Ann urged me to fill my plate, "You haven't eaten Marty." Finally Tim said, "I would love to have lunch with you and catch up."
What do we really have to "catch up" on, all my missteps and tragedies? The fact that quite probably I did indeed marry the wrong guy? Tim was that first true love. I wrote him scads of love letters, each ending in "forever and always." He was the one I lost my virginity to, gave my heart to, and with whom I practiced being a grown up. Had I had better role models for parents, would I have married my high school and college sweetheart and lived happily ever after like all my Iowa cousins did?
Who knows? My life keeps reeling forward and I have often felt I haven't chosen any of it. It seems as if it just happened to me, which of course isn't true.
I finally did fill the plate. The tiny macaroni rings with fake crab meat was actually quite tasty. I said my goodbyes to my shoulda been inlaws and Mary Ann and I headed out of the garage where the food was laid out. Tim came out of the house and I gave him my business card, pointing out my work and cell phone number. I dread that future lunch date. What will we say? What is there to say? That sweet, innocent, uncomplicated relationship seems as though it happened a life time ago. Right now, almost nothing seems sweet, innocent or uncomplicated.
Sigh.
I would by lying if I didn't say I cared about how I looked for this affair. I put on two outfits before choosing jean capris, an aqua stretch tank and a loose knit sleeveless top over that. Green, kitten-heeled slides on my feet. Oh, and dangling blue earrings from Chicos.
After greeting the graduate and her mother, Tim's oldest sister came up to re-introduce herself. It had been 28 years since I've seen most of these people. She was sweet and urged me to go and say hi to her parents. Luckily Tim wasn't there yet, I got to ease myself into this reunion with the boyfriend's family. As I walked up to the patio table, Shirley, Tim's step-mom said, "Oh my goodness, here's the girl who should have been our daughter-in-law!" I hugged as kissed both she and her husband, Harold. He leaned over and said, "I always loved you. I cried when you broke up with Tim you know," to which I replied, "I THINK he broke up with me." Everyone laughed.
I introduced my friend, and freshman roommate, Mary Ann, who by that time was desperately wishing she had driven her own car. Harold leaned over to her and repeated, "I loved her!"
As I was just beginning to fill a plate with a pulled chicken sandwich and several church basement salads, the long broken-up-with boyfriend arrived. I have to admit, he looked fabulous, fit, trim, close-cut graying hair. He approached with a huge smile and arms wide open. Nothing to do but return the hug and turn quickly to his pert, blond wife, Lisa, and greet her. He engaged me in "catching up" right there in the food line. Mary Ann urged me to fill my plate, "You haven't eaten Marty." Finally Tim said, "I would love to have lunch with you and catch up."
What do we really have to "catch up" on, all my missteps and tragedies? The fact that quite probably I did indeed marry the wrong guy? Tim was that first true love. I wrote him scads of love letters, each ending in "forever and always." He was the one I lost my virginity to, gave my heart to, and with whom I practiced being a grown up. Had I had better role models for parents, would I have married my high school and college sweetheart and lived happily ever after like all my Iowa cousins did?
Who knows? My life keeps reeling forward and I have often felt I haven't chosen any of it. It seems as if it just happened to me, which of course isn't true.
I finally did fill the plate. The tiny macaroni rings with fake crab meat was actually quite tasty. I said my goodbyes to my shoulda been inlaws and Mary Ann and I headed out of the garage where the food was laid out. Tim came out of the house and I gave him my business card, pointing out my work and cell phone number. I dread that future lunch date. What will we say? What is there to say? That sweet, innocent, uncomplicated relationship seems as though it happened a life time ago. Right now, almost nothing seems sweet, innocent or uncomplicated.
Sigh.
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