This year marks my 10-year high school class reunion. Somehow, I ended up on the planning committee for the event. Granted, I actually enjoyed high school, for the most part; I have quite a few genuinely good people in my class who I’m looking forward to seeing again, but still. I never thought I’d be the kind of girl on a planning committee, seemingly holding on to school spirit 10 years later.
It didn’t occur to me until several months into planning that this would have been 3’s 5-year reunion. Yes, I knew he was 5 years behind me in school, but the fact that our reunion years would have lined up never crossed my mind until he was gone. So here I sit, receiving group e-mails from former classmates to put together our 10-year party, knowing full well that 3 should be doing the exact same thing.
3 was his class president, a fact that might surprise people who didn’t know him in high school. He wasn’t exactly the paragon of organization and administrative structure. He loved his school, though, and his classmates loved him. The principal refused to let 3 give a speech at graduation, but the other teachers rallied and convinced the principal to let 3 lead the class in their final singing of the alma mater. When we held the calling hours in the high school chapel, some of the seniors at the time came through the line, saying they wanted to let us know what an impact 3 had on the school.
3’s class was a lot smaller than mine was – just over 1/2 the size, actually – but I’m pretty sure he would have been right in the middle of any efforts to put together a reunion, though such efforts might only extend to a few messages on Facebook or Twitter. A 3-led reunion might have taken place over a weekend, with he and his classmates gathering at a football game, cheering on the current team. They might have gone to one of his favorite bars afterwards. He almost certainly would have ended up sleeping with at least one of the girls who showed up.
It’s such a small thing. Like I said, the fact that I share reunion years with 3 wasn’t something I ever thought about before this year. He and I probably would have talked about it, but now we won’t. As for my reunion, I might have told a few of my classmates about what I knew about the class of ’09, but that would have been it. Now, I’m almost certain 3 won’t be brought up at all. Even the few classmates I know are aware of 3’s death aren’t likely to say anything. I barely speak to most of these people, so I’m sure my brother’s death isn’t anything they think about.
I suppose I still have a few more of these “what if” moments to work through in the coming years. They’re certainly fewer and farther between since the first year, but they’re still there. Check this one off the list, anyway.