Upcoming Reunion
By Susan Law Corpany

A few years ago, I embarked on a pre-reunion diet in anticipation of my 20th high school reunion.  (I know.  I know.  I just told a reunion story, but this one is different.)  I bought a book called Lose Ten Years in Ten Weeks.  (In reality, I lost about twenty dollars.)  I measured all the body parts indicated as I started the program, and drew a few more lines to do a weekly measure of additional trouble spots. 

After faithfully following the program for a few weeks, I proudly announced to my teen-age son Scott, "I have lost one-fourth inch off my ankles."  (For the record, that is one-fourth inch off each ankle, not one-eighth of an inch per ankle.)  It was a proud day!  He looked at me for a moment, put his hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes.  "Mom, you do remember that this is the part they put in the ground when you die."

This is not the first time my son has brought me up short.  Such wisdom is contained in that short statement.  I have never forgotten it.  I asked myself why it was so important for me to look good for the old high school crowd.  What did I expect?  Perhaps all the guys who never asked me out would line up.

"Susan, if I had only known how gorgeous you were going to be..."

"I was just admiring your slim ankles from afar and had to come over and tell you that I'm so sorry I didn't invite you to the prom."

"Would you mind giving my wife here some diet and skin care tips?"

What I found at my 20th reunion that year were people who seemed more genuine than I remembered from the 10th.  Perhaps the star athlete had been humbled by life experiences.  The rowdy kid from my creative writing class was now a high school principal and I had to find out how that had happened. 

We were no longer divided by that invisible line that had separated the LDS and non-LDS kids in that class.  When our student body president took the pulpit, looking every bit like the ecclesiastical leader he was, somebody yelled out, "Remember we're not all Mormons, Bishop."  So we dispensed with the opening hymn and had a good time.   The lines between the popular, less-popular and unpopular had blurred.    

Some Lessons have to be Repeated

A couple of years ago I was talking to another friend of mine from high school.  She was a year behind me in school and asked if our class had held a 30-year reunion.  I told her that they had not, and that I was very disappointed.

"I had lost twenty-five pounds and I have had four books published, and they didn't even hold a reunion."

"That's too bad."

"But I really enjoyed my 20th.  People seemed more genuine.  It seemed like they were truly interested in each other and not just there to impress everyone with their accomplishments and good looks."

She paused for a moment before responding.  "Like by having lost twenty-five pounds and having written four books?"

Zing!  “Exactly!”  (Sometimes there is nothing you can do but own up.)  I laughed, brought up short yet another time, and once again took stock of my misplaced priorities, grateful for friends I am close enough to who can and will say such things to me.  Immediately Scott's words about my ankles came to mind.  I shared his comments with her and told her I really do try to remember to work on the part of me that doesn’t go in the ground. 

How can I lose the 45 pounds of grudges I have been carrying around?

How do I get rid of these frown lines from looking at the down side of life?

Do I need bifocals to correct my problem of being able to see the faults of others but not my own?

Is having a double-standard worse than having a double-chin?

Do I suffer from hardening of the attitudes?

Are these squint lines around my eyes from minutely examining and judging the behavior of others?

How are my reflexes?  Am I quick to anger?  Slow to remember blessings?

Do I give love freely or is there a blockage in the arteries from my heart?

There is another reunion we should all be preparing for.  At that reunion, I hope to hear the words "Well done, my good and faithful servant." 

Perhaps if I work really hard on the important part of myself, that spiritual part that endures, I will even qualify to be resurrected with slim ankles.