Papa had a class reunion last Saturday, and I accompanied him. There were the usual assortment, old friends, fun people and not-so-fun people. The food was pretty good, and after 40 years no one was so nervous that drank too much. Many were retired already, making some of us sad for ourselves, but glad for them.
One man asked me if I had graduated from that school. When I said yes, he asked me my former last name. When he heard that, he pointed out that my dad and his had been buddies. That was a revelation to me. I barely had time to grow up before my dad passed away. I never considered him from an adult perspective, certainly never with “buddies”. I did know he had friends, but buddies? We had a short conversation and I got some good advice, “remember the good times”.
So, no matter what the situation, remember the good times.
