The “kids” of ‘65 have begun to arrive. I’m so excited I can’t stand it. So what if “the kids” are now defined as senior citizens.
Martha McHaney, my oldest friend, got here first. She drove nine and a half hours from Houston, Texas, and came bouncing out of her big ole Explorer like she just got out of bed. She is here for our 45th class reunion and I feel like we just had it. She saw Mississippi in a new way. “What great roads you have,” she exclaimed. She had traveled Highway 25 from Jackson and remembered when it was two lanes and went through downtown Carthage
I decided to dance with her optimism. Maybe Mississippi has some things to be proud of. Tomorrow, we have two more of our bosom buddies arriving – Carole and Hazle. Isn’t it funny how bosoms don’t mean much any more?
Tomorrow, the remainder of our class will come together and I want to imprint the memories on my mind. These are the kids I grew up with, tested our parents to their limits and made it out alive. We never did drugs or used profanity. (Well, there WAS that time I said “Dang” and got my mouth washed out with soap.)
Excuse me, I need to go lose five more pounds.