As I prepare my thoughts for baccalaureate this week, I can’t help but think of my own senior year in high school. And that of course triggers thoughts of our upcoming reunion in July. Thirty years have gone under the bridge. It does not seem possible. I am going to sign up to attend the festivities, but not without reservation.

Several images continue to flash across the screen of my conscious thoughts. I just know that I will be the only male there with hair that appears to becoming gray overnight. In fact, I envision my classmates as looking like they are still 17. I will be the only one there who looks every bit of 48. And of course in my head, every member of the class of 1980 has skated through life experiencing tremendous financial success, marital bliss, and 2.5 perfect children. They will all arrive at the reunion eager to share the exploits of their storybook life. They will probably bring stacks of pictures that chronicle their idyllic life.

It is time for me to eliminate that screen permanently. Nothing could be farther from the truth. All of us have either turned 48 or will soon. Some of us look our age. A few have partaken of the Fountain of Youth. But the reality is: we are all rapidly approaching the half century mark. We have now lived long enough to experience a few wrinkles and a heartbreaks too.

Some of my classmates have been married to the same person for nearly 3 decades. Others have been through divorces. Some have never married. But I am confident that each of us has experienced significant relational challenges. It has not been a walk through the rose garden for any of us.

I am sure that many of my classmates have experienced good health, but some have not. Others have taken care of spouses during times of life threatening illness. I would suspect that there are those in our group who have lost children or perhaps even grandchildren. Some of have been extremely successful. And I am sure others have struggled financially.

When I step down from speaking in the high school auditorium during baccalaureate Sunday afternoon, I plan to begin the process of thinking more about my own classmates. The images that will flash across the screen will be much different. Going to the reunion is not all about me. A reunion is about experiencing unity with a group of people in a fresh and new way.

I am going to begin viewing established friendships in a different way. What do those friends need from me at this stage in our life? There are people I was barely acquainted with who could potentially become new friends. How can I be prepared to solidify new relationships? The reunion is not about me. It is not about my feelings or ridiculous perceptions. It is about the group. It is about the collective concerns of the group. It is about people who need a friend. It is about reconnecting. And in some cases, it is about making new connections. It is sort of scary in a way. But I think we are all at a time in life when we recognize the importance of every person. I am ready for some new images to start flashing across that screen… I am ready to reunite. If you are on the fence about attending the 30 year reunion this summer, I hope you will jump off of it and change the images running across the screen of your conscious thoughts if necessary. The process of reuniting cannot be completed without your presence.