I love reunions although I admit they can be a pain in the ass to get to when you live way the hell off in Santa Fe and the reunion is in the middle of Long Island.  Just once, I would like to attend a reunion in a state where I actually live but that’s not likely to happen.  Who would I reunite with in New Mexico?  I’ve only been here for nine years and many of the people I’ve grown fond of have passed away.  We’ll have to have our reunion in heaven someday – but I’m hoping that day is a long way off.  That, too, will require long-distance travel. 

Nevertheless, it’s totally worth the trip for me to show up for a reunion.  I’ve been to several over the years – notably, a family reunion in the Catskills back in 1986, my 20th , 30th and 35th Herricks High School reunions at the Long Island Marriott in Uniondale, a reunion of several co-workers from Digital Communications Associates in Atlanta and, most recently, an all-class high school reunion in Boca Raton. 

The family reunion took place at the Fallsview Hotel in Ellenville, New York, one of the few remaining Borscht Belt hotels still open in the middle eighties.  The reunion commemorated the 50th anniversary of The Littman Family Circle, an organization formed by my grandfather and his brother in the 1930s to help immigrant family members get established in the United States.  It was a festive, multi-generational event that included much singing, dancing and reminiscing.  It took place one year before I miscarried my only child and got divorced.

Then came the high school reunions for Herricks Class of 1971.

I didn’t go to my 10th high school reunion because there wasn’t one.  A reunion took place in the 11th year and nobody knew how to contact me because, by then, I had moved from Boston to Atlanta and hadn’t alerted the media.  However, I subsequently learned that most classmates were focused on their careers at that particular event.  That’s appropriate for people in their late twenties.  Thirty-eight year-olds talk about family.  Forty-eight-year-olds talk about health issues and loss. Fifty-three year olds pull out photos of grandchildren but mostly they want to get drunk and laid – not necessarily in that order.  If I’d made it to the 40th reunion (and I didn’t because I was concerned about traveling in a violent outbreak of tornados), I imagine that attendees were just happy to be alive.  They all looked great on the pictures

My 20th high school reunion was an ecstatic affair at the aforementioned Long Island Marriott.  Hundreds of people showed up, many with their spouses.  At that time, I was living with my fiance, Grant, in Atlanta.  There was no way I was going to bring him to my high school reunion because I didn’t want to spend the evening introducing him to a bunch of people from my past that he had nothing in common with. That, and I wanted to be a social butterfly.

I did go with a friend who made the mistake of bringing her husband. He was bored witless almost immediately. So, I ended up getting carted off to their home in New Jersey hours before I was ready to leave.  I did spend most of the night dancing with Ronnie Rodriguez.  Every time I got up to salsa, someone slipped more scotch in my glass – and since I didn’t actually get to eat at the reunion (in spite of the highly-priced buffet), I got pretty blitzed.  I wonder if I passed out on the way to East Brunswick.

I married Grant one year later.

For the 30th reunion, I decided to stay on Long Island and go solo.  I stayed with my friend, Nadine, who I had met at a Catskill bungalow colony when I was 11.  I nearly went to the reunion in her daughter’s Sweet 16 dress.  I opted for something more appropriate.  My buddy, Jeff, picked me up at Nadine’s house and took me to – once again – the Long Island Marriott.  And, once again, it was a well-attended, joyful affair.  And I enjoyed staying with Nadine.  She lived around the corner from the Milleridge Inn where I had had my own Sweet 16, so it was a nostalgic weekend all around. 

I was very afraid to attend my 30th reunion because it took place a month after the 9/11 attacks and I was going to have to fly up from Atlanta.  I sucked it up and went anyway.  We flew over Ground Zero. My seatmate, a frequent flyer, was terrified because flying over Ground Zero was supposed to be forbidden and he feared we were heading toward the Empire State Building!  I think we may have held hands until we landed – and maybe a few moments after that.

I had such a good time at the 30th reunion, I decided to attend the 35th, too.  By that time, I was living in Santa Fe and it took me approximately 75 hours to get to the Long Island Marriott, where I decided to stay.  I arrived at LaGuardia in a horrendous nor’easter and got soaked waiting for the prearranged cab to find me and transport me to the middle of Long Island for around a million dollars.  Relatively few people attended the 35th reunion but that was okay because Ronnie Rodriguez was there and we danced the night away again!

Strangely, as soon as we parted ways, I ended up at the Northside Hospital with an acute pancreatitis attack that nearly killed me.  How’s that for timing?  It just goes to show you – you never know what life has in store.

I attended the all-class Herricks High School reunion in Boca Raton a few weeks ago.  I learned about it on Facebook, the best reunion site of all time. Some of my classmates had gotten just old enough to retire to South Florida and my mother lives there so it made perfect sense to attend. This time, we just met at a bar.  Around 30 people showed up, less than a handful from my class.  But I loved seeing that handful who had put in the effort to come, along with the siblings of classmates and people from other classes.

This time, I took my husband and he enjoyed it as much as I did – mostly because he got to reconnect with the husband of my dear friend Leslie, who I grew up next door to.  We’d all gotten together years before in Atlanta.

I’ve lost a lot of dear ones in the past few years.  You never know when someone is going to drop out of your life forever. That’s why I like to show up.  For me, it’s not enough to wait for the reunion in heaven or in the next life or never. 

I know lots of people who wouldn’t be caught dead at a reunion – and they all have their reasons.  But, like it or not, you will probably see me again.

Gee – I wonder whatever became of Ronnie Rodriguez.