Good morning, Dear friends. Due to a change of heart, I am going to attend two of the several festivities being held by my graduating class of 1972. I originally opted to stay home, despite the lovely urgings and invitations from class mates, family, and friends. 45 years. However, I flipped through a digital copy of my senior yearbook online. A blur of total recognition, reflection, nostalgia, and gratitude overwhelmed the cloudy apprehensions. I swallowed my hatred of the handicapping factions of my life, rented a wheel chair, invited my willing son, and reserved our places at tonight's picnic and Saturday's dinner/reception.
Smiling back at me from 1972 were the laughing images of classmates and teachers who have no ill will toward me... or anyone else. Although I did not dwell on it, the realization brushed against my ever-denying mind---- a sizeable number of "us" have passed away, and that shock naturally pains my heart. Life is fragile, and precious, and exciting... and disappointing.... and giddy with fun.... brimming with tears. Anyway. Tonight is just a hotdog in the park with my precious and ever-supportive son, my friends from long ago... and a wheel chair.