This weekend I was “off”, in that I didn’t need to show up for work, which was a nice change. OTOH, I was ‘on’ in that I was the spouse of a High School Reunion attendee. It was weird.
My wife decided she wanted to go to her HS reunion (the exact number isn’t terrifically important, and might get me grief around the house, but let’s say it’s beyond 20) for the first time. Due to the shifts of the non-nuclear family, there’s no family left in her High School town, so there’s been no reason to go back. Until now.
Plans are made, and the school has worked hard to contact all their year-group grads they could. Spouse wants to go, so we do. She spent time reading her HS Annual, and reminiscing fondly (and not-so) over the pictures therein.
It’s the weirdest thing to spend a weekend in a city you know nothing of with people you have virtually nothing in common. Safe conversations: weather, travel to, and the amusing story you’ve been cleared to tell about your spouse.
I’m debating whether the attendees were there because they were good school-minded people or whether HS was the best time of their lives; I don’t have a good answer to that.
I do know that all the grads I met there were having a good time, and their escorts (like me) were good sports about the whole thing.
And I still have no interest in going to my own. Character deficit, probably.