A REUNION WORTH ATTENDING ANY TIME

I wonder how many people really think reunions are a great idea. When an invitation came from one of my former high schools, my first thought was to go on a diet.

Later, when my husband asked if I was going to go, I told him I didn't think so, because there were many different schools I attended, and I didn't graduate from any of them. I attended night school and graduated later. After thinking about it, I commented that I'd rather attend the reunion at Bellevue High, one school that hadn't sent an invitation. I'd had more friends there, but my attendance had been so sporadic that they probably hadn't thought of inviting me—I had lived in that school district off and on for parts of fifth, sixth, seventh, ninth, and tenth grades, with many moves in between. Because Mom had some good friends in Bellevue, we often moved back there.

At that time, Dad had been chasing dreams and dragging my brother, sister, mom, and me with him. He never found the illusive "pot of gold" that he was looking for—due in large part to his drinking problem and his belief that the gold was to be found outside of himself.

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