November 23, 2005

Visits From the Past…

There we were—twelve years older, a couple of us married, fewer still with kids—but otherwise, relatively the same. We were still the same "girls" who laughed with gusto and fretted about things. Armed with the highschool yearbook, we proceeded to count how many of us had gotten hitched in the past twelve years (answer: about 40%), how many were living and working abroad (about a third), how many were doctors (6%), how many were in the entertainment industry (lost count)...

It was, needless to say, an evening of reminiscing-- recalling the times we made our teachers cry, the times we made our teachers walk out of our classes, and the time we made our teachers scream "You're getting wild!" We talked about how our teachers often told us we were the best batch our highschool turned out-- too bad we were the noisiest as well. We revelled over the clubs we were part of, who was president of which, and whose "fault" it was that our yearbook had pictures we now wish had never seen the light of day. We recalled the "friendly" rivalry we had with the batch before us.

We updated each other on our lives-- what we were now doing, our future plans, and made promises to help each other meet our goals. We made a pact to hold reunions like this more often.

The next day, the mother of our former classmate was brought to the emergency room where one of us happened to be a doctor. She had end stage cancer which had already spread to the bones. She was in severe pain and was subsequently admitted to the hospital. Next came the seemingly endless procession of "girls" who were now women, visiting someone who was so much like our own mother. She flew back to the US a few days after.

Now, all we do is wait. For news. For word. And for the next chapter of visits from the past.