This weekend we went to hubby's class reunion. Not a formal reunion, but a party for his classmates which is held each year. One of his classmates has a beautiful place on Petit Jean Mountain near the state park and for several years has graciously invited his classmates. This was our first year to attend. I cannot describe how beautiful his place is, but imagine looking out over the Arkansas River Valley atop a mountain bluff. On this property there is nothing to mow for all the area is landscaped naturally using the local stones to mark pathways and individual natural flower beds with all kinds of flora and fauna amongst the huge pines and the gorgeous deciduous trees. The oakwood hydrangeas were in full bloom scattered throughout the forest and the raised garden beds were overflowing with squash, okra, and 6 foot tomato vines spilling through their wire cages. Every place I looked was a photo op. His wife is a Master Gardner and travels the USA for conventions and expositions so her talent is well displayed. It is quite evident that their days begin at sunrise and they are only driven inside by darkness. The long curved driveway through the forest was lined with dry stacked stones for a 2 foot tall wall that looked professional. She laid each stone by herself over an 8 year period obviously using a level for each stone fit perfectly. Their house is just as beautiful with a deck running across the back of the house ending at the screened sleeping porch which looked like something from Southern Living as did the rest of the house, but something about that sleeping porch, allowing a breeze from three sides with views beyond imagination, intrigues me. I would love to rent out just that room for the night. It was so beautiful and romantic and everything I had ever dreamed.
The memories the people (it is really hard not to call them kids for that is how they remember themselves), poignant, some funny, and some a little sad, were shared in this beautiful quiet, serene place with a bird chirping now and again high above our heads. These kids shared memories of key less doors, of supper smells of the neighborhoods, of bicycle rides across town, of old Mrs. So and So who lived on the corner, of dragging their cars on the flats of the valley floor on a Saturday night, of meeting at the local drive-in, batting and battling June bugs from their hamburgers and sodas under the yellow lights of the drive-in. As they were describing some of their escapades, I could only think of the movie "American Graffiti". What a wonderful time. Conway - what a wonderful time and 1960 must have been a wonderful year. Someone mentioned they felt sorry for people who did not grow up and go to school in Conway in 1960, and after their tales, I agree.
It is true that after a period of time, everything equals out. The kids once considered pretty or even beautiful are now just ordinary. The kids considered ugly are now pretty and handsome in their maturity. The ones who were so popular in high school may have been hit by a hard dose of reality and realize now that the world does not revolve around them and the fact that they are/were a cheerleader. The football players, the jocks, may now be suffering from all kinds of knee injuries, back trouble, shoulder or hip replacements. The shy, backwards people may have gone on to achieve something special in their lives which has brought them out of their shells. In fact, they, many years later, may be the one actually carry the conversation. Everything equals out now.
Yes, we had a beautiful setting for this reunion, but what was really truly beautiful was the gathering and sharing with old friends, friends from long ago. It was a connection to the past, a bridge to a time in their lives when everything was right....a gentler time as child........of sweet memories, and for some it may be their only connection as their own families have all now passed on. There is an old song that goes something like this. "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold." We will renew and keep these golden friends - they are our connection.
I love you.
The memories the people (it is really hard not to call them kids for that is how they remember themselves), poignant, some funny, and some a little sad, were shared in this beautiful quiet, serene place with a bird chirping now and again high above our heads. These kids shared memories of key less doors, of supper smells of the neighborhoods, of bicycle rides across town, of old Mrs. So and So who lived on the corner, of dragging their cars on the flats of the valley floor on a Saturday night, of meeting at the local drive-in, batting and battling June bugs from their hamburgers and sodas under the yellow lights of the drive-in. As they were describing some of their escapades, I could only think of the movie "American Graffiti". What a wonderful time. Conway - what a wonderful time and 1960 must have been a wonderful year. Someone mentioned they felt sorry for people who did not grow up and go to school in Conway in 1960, and after their tales, I agree.
It is true that after a period of time, everything equals out. The kids once considered pretty or even beautiful are now just ordinary. The kids considered ugly are now pretty and handsome in their maturity. The ones who were so popular in high school may have been hit by a hard dose of reality and realize now that the world does not revolve around them and the fact that they are/were a cheerleader. The football players, the jocks, may now be suffering from all kinds of knee injuries, back trouble, shoulder or hip replacements. The shy, backwards people may have gone on to achieve something special in their lives which has brought them out of their shells. In fact, they, many years later, may be the one actually carry the conversation. Everything equals out now.
Yes, we had a beautiful setting for this reunion, but what was really truly beautiful was the gathering and sharing with old friends, friends from long ago. It was a connection to the past, a bridge to a time in their lives when everything was right....a gentler time as child........of sweet memories, and for some it may be their only connection as their own families have all now passed on. There is an old song that goes something like this. "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold." We will renew and keep these golden friends - they are our connection.
I love you.
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