Sunday, August 7, 2011

To the Skyline High School Class of 1991

I'm not quite ready for this night to end.

Like so many of you, I approached this weekend with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. Would I be remembered in a positive way? Would I be remembered at all? What if those I was closest to don't show, who will I talk to? I came right up to the doors of Skyline Friday night, and almost turned around and walked away. What lay beyond those doors, that was of any value to me? My life, as I hope is the case with all of you, has been far more interesting and far more fulfilling in the last twenty years of my life, than in the first eighteen. But I took a deep breath, and walked in, and I'll always be grateful that I did.

What I found beyond the doors Friday night, and at the family picnic this afternoon, and the final presentation this evening, was a group of old friends, who have had the widest range of experiences, but who also share the common challenge of making our way in this world, of raising the next generation, of trying to leave the world a little better than we found it. I found friends to whom I was once tied by the bonds of school spirit, and the Blue and Gold, and the struggles and joys of adolescence, but to whom I am now bound by the greater shared experiences of life.

Every new generation faces the challenges we have faced, it was our lot to face them together. Twenty years ago, we stood together at the edge of childhood, and faced forward. Then, together, we took that first step into adulthood.

So, to you, the Skyline High School Class of 1991, to you who once walked those halls, who wore the Blue and Gold with pride, to you who shone in the spotlight, and to you who stayed in the shadows, to you who came, and to you who wish you could have, to you who have soared, and to you who have your feet firmly planted on the ground, and to you, timeless friends, I say thank you.

Thank you for this weekend. Thank you for twenty years ago. Thank you for remembering with us. Thank you for being extraordinary.

It is honor to be counted among you.


Michelle said...

Hi Chris -- What a wonderful retelling of your weekend class reunion. If I would have known they could be so magical I would have attended mine. Nah, I'll just stick with catching up with the folks I'm friends with on facebook.

Good to hear from you....your way with the written word is always a joy to read.

Said said...

Our school days are much like the roots of a bush. Some branches of the bush wither and die from one malaise or another. Some branches are all foliage, providing nutrients back to the other parts of the bush but, never bearing the blossom or fruit of other branches. Yet still providing for the good of the bush.
Some branches will blossom and show in all the glory the life experience has provided them. Then the blossom fall from the bush only to become fertilizer for the next bush. Some branches hold blossoms which have been pollinated and come to bear fruit. The seed of this fruit falls to earth for the beginning on the next bush.

What ever branch of this bush you feel you are have the courage to own it.