The Reunion

Let me preface this by saying I normally hate reunions and don’t ever even consider attending them. My feeling on them generally is that the people that matter I keep up with, and the rest of them I don’t have much in common with. If I didn’t like them then, I’m probably not going to like them now. It just feels ingenuine to bond over an experience where we went to school together because that is where our parents sent us but our experiences were completely different. (Family reunions aren’t included in this, they are an entire other mixed bag.) This reunion experience was different, and no matter what else has happened in our lives we still have the same career we all chose, so that bonds us.

So I ended up going to that retirement party “reunion” after all. I was going to try and tag along with a current co-worker/friend who also works at that other hospital, but he couldn’t go at the last minute so I almost bailed. But I had purchased a card and had the plans in place for me to go, so I decided I should just man up and go. I was actually pretty scared going into it, with my stomach in knots. I shouldn’t have been, though.

It was a nice day, so the party was on the outdoor deck area of a seafood place on the water, and walking out there it was like going home after a long time away. Everyone looked exactly the same, only older, but not 20 years older. The last time I saw most of these people I was still a bratty not-quite-teenager, or as a relatively young and inexperienced new mom. 20 years of world experience and 5 kids under my belt tends to change people’s perception of you, although because of the latter I am still labeled “crazy”. Through my sister and her Facebook, the page I kept briefly many years ago, and word of mouth through common coworkers, most people were aware of my married mom of 5 status, vs the “wild child” reputation I once held when we all shared a common workplace, so it wasn’t surprising or a shock. I mean, everyone eventually has to grow up (unless you’re Johnny Depp) Speaking of Johnny, have you read the new article on him in Rolling Stone? It’s published on their website, it’s a totally great read, although so, so sad.

But I digress.

I am happy to report that none of the people I wouldn’t have wanted to run into (and who wouldn’t have wanted to see me) were not there, at least not during the time that I was. And everyone seems to have found a relative settled-ness and are happy...20 years ago, even 10 years ago for some, there was some unhappiness and definitely some very difficult things some were facing (myself included.) Everyone is still working in the field in some capacity, which speaks a lot about those that love what we do. It’s a really fascinating and evolving field, and there are so many options within.

Let me stop the story for a second and just say what a mindfuck 20 years is...all the people in our lives that didn’t exist in this world 20 years ago but now do...and all the people in our lives that existed 20 years ago, that no longer do.

We shared lots of hugs, great stories new and old, caught up about people we knew who didn’t make it to the party, caught up about everyone’s kids and grandkids and spouses and siblings, and mourned for the few of us who have passed away in the years since. It was as if 20 years had passed but also as if it was yesterday and no time at all had gone by. Most importantly, I got to go to show support and congratulations to a woman who is one of a kind. Who was the greatest first Chief anyone could ever have. Whose stern-looking demeanor is a front for the absolute teddy bear she is underneath. Whose office door has always been open for staff to come in at any time to say hi, grab a piece of candy, chitchat, pour their heart out. A boss who you never had to worry about looking busy around when she walked through the department. She always trusted us to get the work done, and in turn everyone respected her and did. She allowed us students and staff alike room to goof off and play urinal bowling and have water battles with syringes in the back hallway as long as we cleaned up our mess, and on a very slow day when she opened our workroom door and found all of us listening to music and playing a 10-person deep game of Bop It, joined right in. There just isn’t anyone like her. She cared about us all so much.

I am so very glad I went. While it was so long ago that I was with all these people on a daily basis, and for just a fraction of time really, these people helped shape me into a tiny part of what I am today. They taught me how to do all the things I needed so I could learn my craft, taught me to always (keep) thinking outside the box, were (mostly) patient with me when I was still making stupid personal teenage mistakes, partied with us and celebrated/mourned breakups and heartaches and engagements and kids and lost loved ones and everything in between. Where my love of Kevin Smith grew into an obsession by being given a VHS copy of Chasing Amy (thst changed my life and gave me a deep understanding of relationships, and characters I identified with so wholly) by someone who went on and on about the genius of this man, and whose entire body of work I now know by heart and has provided us with years of deep discussions on the meaning of love and life with my husband. They were important to me during an important time in my life, when personal and professional lives were so intricately weaved together.

I was so afraid to go, and I never should have been. You really can go home again.