An open letter to my highschool classmates. Thank you.

In 2019, I was approached by a familiar face at a community Halloween event, something I would typically not attend, but my son and nephew wanted to go, so my little sister and I obliged.

This familiar face was a high school classmate I hadn’t seen in decades. We chatted, she asked about a few people in my social media circle from school and that was about it. At first I couldn’t place her (embarrassed to say) as the only time I thought about life from the 90s was…, well all the time, but rarely faces from school.

As I thought about our brief and serendipitous encounter, I did the math. In just a handful of months, we’d be at our 25th year since graduating. Hmmm, I thought. That’s a long fucking time.

I can’t really explain (or accurately remember) what transpired over the course of the next few weeks other than me creating a couple of anonymous social media accounts and feverishly messaging anyone I recognized from our graduating class.

A pandemice didn’t stop us. Thirty two months later we met, some for the first time in 27 years. It was nothing short of magical as we put aside our high school perceptions from our teen years and trusted the good in people as we laughed, cried and danced to 90s music.

Some traveled from Mexico, Newfoundland, the US, or just mere 2 miles around the corner. Over the next few hours the outside world didn’t matter and the essence of nostalgia made conversation a little easier and the joy that appeared on our aged and weathered faces pure and authentic.

It has almost been a year since that night and I’m still as honoured to have been a part of it as I was on that sunny Sunday morning that followed after everything had been cleared up and put away… Im still struggling to articulate the feelings I woke with, aside from exhaustion and glee.

I’ve had the amazing opportunity to hold a group of you a little closer after that night. An irony that doesn’t go unnoticed as we were mere faces in the halls back then.

It’s hard making new connections when you’re old(er), but connection with familiar strangers has been a real blessing. There’s the power of nostalgia, ya, but also a sense of home in faces that bring you back to an easier life as far as responsibility and where you fit in the world. I know ages 15 to 19 may have been super rough for some and avoiding possible triggers is your chosen lane and one not worth veering left or right; I respect that. But for me it has been welcomed, if not, needed.

So, thank you, classmates.

Thanks for trusting our circle to show up as yourself.

Thanks for sharing your dark days, your struggles and your pain.

Thanks for sharing the belly laughs and the friendly glances when reliving some really, really funny stories from school.

Thanks for your discretion and confidence, for no other reason than you feel like home.

Thanks for showing up when I know nerves and life can get in the way.

Thanks for showering 🙂

Thanks for reminding me that all we really want and need in life is connection, and how honoured I am to share that with you.

See you in June.

Your Yearbook Editor and Pal,

A