The more things change … or what does this song mean?

This past weekend, I attended my 15th high school class reunion.

15.

As in, 5 more years and it will be 20.

As in, we actually sat and made plans for 20, because (like most adults) we recognize that 5 years really is not that long of a time and in fact seems to be a shorter and shorter time as we all become increasingly busy, busy, busy.

I didn’t attend my 10th reunion, so I actually hadn’t seen many of my former classmates since Graduation Day 1993. Okay, maybe there have been a few rogue sightings here and there, but for the most part – my adult life has been fairly high school friend free. This wasn’t by design or anything. I liked my peers. But my life sort of went a different route when I headed out for Nebraska the August after graduation, and I haven’t had the time to really “look back” since.

We had a very small class, attending Lutheran High in its heyday like we did. 17 classmates get to know one another extremely well over a four year time period. By the time we left the hallowed halls of LHS we knew precisely what made each other tick, and what made each other explode, laugh, cry and, you name it.

The entire experience was thought-provoking. What I have mulled over most is, why do people attend reunions?

Well. I can tell you what was not motivating me ...

I didn’t attend my reunion out of some odd sense of curiosity, although I admit that I was somewhat curious to see where life had taken my old chums. And I didn’t attend with some bizarre and juvenile agenda to prove my worth (isn’t it in Romey and Michelle’s High School Reunion where Mira Sorvino’s character claims to have invented the PostIt?), although I was bestowed with the 1992 Homecoming Superlative for “Most Likely to Succeed”, which is an awfully intimidating title to carry with you into your reunion.

I went … well, why DID I go? I hardly go out at all anymore, so to take the time to get all gussied up, arrange with Papa to Syd-wrangle and head out to Winghaven for J.Bucks on a Saturday night suggests that I was fairly motivated to attend! …

I went because I am sort of weird when it comes to “old times.” You know the tune, Auld Lang Syne … well, the words always make me sort of weepy. That idea of remembering people who meant a great deal to us “way back when” … Of keeping a sense of one's past and the relationships of that past as a vibrant and important treasure in one's future ... or how is it that Harry talks about the song in the movie, When Harry Met Sally, “What does this song mean? My whole life, I don't know what this song means. I mean, 'Should old acquaintance be forgot'? Does that mean that we should forget old acquaintances, or does it mean if we happened to forget them, we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot?”

Yes. Something like that.

Actually Baz Luhrmann says it really well in his well know “Sunscreen Song”:

"Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.”

I think that’s why I went to my high school class reunion. These were people who knew me before. Before what? Well. Before absolutely everything! It was the “me in the rough”, the awkward me, the uncertain me, the me who kinda-sorta-maybe-thought she had the world by the tail, but was scared to death to shake it and find out she wasn’t really all that much to yell about.

For some people, returning to those who knew you before you “were” is probably cause for loads of insecurity because they worry that – maybe – they STILL aren’t. I’m not trying to say I am something – but I’m on the way. (And I hope, dear reader, that you are, too!) And reconnecting with people who walked along the road with me way-back-when adds depth to my still reaching roots. And I like that.

All in all, it was a fun evening. Nothing spectacular, nothing tremendously “significant”, but I won’t forget it. Looking around the table I was truly struck by how we all retain pieces of our younger selves. Yes, we all were different. Older. Grayer. Less hair. More weight. Lots of kids. Career oriented. But I also saw flashes of who we were. Certain group dynamics returned after just a short while. Mannerisms and tones of voice and senses of humor were pretty much intact. It was like this odd out of body experience – with our younger selves hanging back on the fringe of the room watching the older models enjoy a meal together.

And I think we liked what we saw.

The Class of 1993: (from left) Matt Peters, Amy Edinger, Brenda Barbieri, Christine Walsh, Matt Kramer, Erin Trinklein, Jon Frecks, Amy Linnenman, and Gretchen Staude

28 Weeks! Huzzah!

Yesterday, we officialy made it to 28 weeks. [Insert raucous cheers here] This is excellent news. At our follow-up appointment this week, Dr. Keisler stressed the vital importance of the next four weeks. We continue to covet prayers.

We had a chance to ask Sydney for an update. This latest ultrasound photo gives a clear indication that, from Syd's vantage point, "It's all good in here, Mommy and Daddy!" So we are trusting that she's comfy and growing and developing just as she needs to:


We will be seeing the obstetric specialist at St. Joseph's hospital each week for an ultrasound and to be on the monitor to gauge the level of contractions. Every other week, we will additionally visit Dr. Keisler. At this point and time, we could completely go full-term, or Syd could be here tomorrow. It's a lesson in waiting ... a lesson in letting go ... a lesson in simply enjoying each day and relying on God's total provision ... some days we really struggle with those lessons. Other days, we feel unstoppable. We suppose that's natural and are already appreciating how this experience is shaping our marriage and our relationship as we prepare for parenting together.

Now to life on the Homefront here at Hospital Camp ...

Many of you have made veiled [okay, less than veiled in most cases] comments related to Gret's ability to lay low ... remain calm and rested ... it's as if we all think Gret can't sit still.

But she can! And she will, especially once this play is over (that's right, for those who didn't know ~ this week was not only Gret and Leon's first week of modified bed rest life, but also tech week for the fall play at Lutheran High, which Gret is directing ...) Many continued thanks to Gret's parents, who jumped in along with Leon and parents of the students to manage all of the "active" details. Gret literally sits in a big comfy chair at rehearsals and (now) at performance and directs. It's been a new way to direct, but maybe she could get used to this!

The good news is that Gret is able to work from home ~ so watch out Youth Ministry Office because with all this time on her hands she has plenty of energy for new ideas, writing projects, updating, planning, etc. It's rather fun, actually! And with co-workers making time to come visit regularly, not as lonely as one might worry!

Leon continues to excel in creating soup-based dinners, yummy snacks and more. The wonderful Immanuel family is taking care of us as well, which is such a blessing. We are so thankful for our Church. And Gret is allowed to prepare small meals and move in a "low key" sort of way. She led Leon through the steps of making her infamous chocolate chip cookies yesterday afternoon, which was fun and broke up the "supine time" Gret needs to do each day.

Every day that goes by is a good thing. And honestly, it's rather exciting to think that Syd could be here "any time." We know that's true of any pregnancy, but there is something about having the doctor quite literally say, "we just don't know" that is slightly nerve-wracking. Our prayer is simply that whenever Sydney arrives, she is healthy, happy and hale.

We're sure life here at Hospital Camp will get a little dicey ;-) We'll keep you posted. And the door, phone line and Web access is always open to you! We love hearing from friends and family!

Mardis Gras

Those who know us well, know that New Orleans is a city dear to our hearts.

We first visited as newlyweds on our honeymoon and the combination of music, food, history, and soul was addictive. We have since journeyed to New Orleans every year of our married life at least once (but usually far more times).

We love everything about New Orleans, from the feel of the French Quarter to the touch of the breeze on your face as you stroll along the levy and the Mississippi glides along beside you; from the grand houses along Saint Charles to the funky painted river shacks along Burgundy.

We love the people of New Orleans, who demonstrate an exuberance (even since the storm) that cannot be described in words. They have a gracious hospitality that makes you feel at home. They have a sense of tradition, family, and love for living that is downright infectious and makes you tap your foot, join along and (if you're lucky) carry just a bit of the South home with you.

We love the food ~ of course ~ of New Orleans. Whether beignets at Cafe Du Mond in the early morning with a cup of steaming chickory coffee (even on 100 degree days), Turtle Soup au Sherry at Arnauds, Praline Bacon at tiny little breakfast haunts in Fobourg Marigny, Gumbo anywhere with the crusty French bread that is only found below sea level in New Orleans, waiting in line for a Mufaletta at Central Grocery, fried Pecan pie and burgers at the Camillia Grill at the end of the St. Charles Streetcar line in the Garden District, Alligator Sausage Cheesecake at Jacques Imos Uptown, a Po-Boy from Mother's where the one hour wait even on a steamy summer afternoon is worth every minute, the Avacado Shrimp salad at the Napoleon House, Bread Pudding at Commander's Palace, even a Lucky Dog consummed on Bourbon street at 2AM ~ food just tastes better in New Orleans.

Music. When Katrina was coming, and Ivan the summer before (yes, Gretchen has been there for each) ~ what you noticed first (besides your favorite Daquiri stand closing on Bourbon) was the silence. The music stopped. In the months after Katrina, it has taken time ~ but the music is back in the Quarter. What a sound. Preservation Hall is the best ~ where you have to tip $20 to hear "The Saints" but you won't ever hear the song the same way again. Or taking a ride over to Frenchman's Street for an evening at Snug Harbor ~ where Ellis Marsalis is know to drop in a few nights a week. Street musicians abound ~ some better than others ... the best can be found in the mid-afternoon at Cafe du Mond. And don't let them fool you ~ they'll take your tips, but if you want a CD (and yes, you will want) they can whip out the credit card machine before your VISA leaves your wallet.

There's just something about New Orleans.

It's Mardis Gras ~ and most folks outside of the South don't get Mardis Gras ... it's an intensely family-oriented celebration. Our friends in New Orleans are loving today, sort of a mid-year Thanksgiving. And we celebrate with them. We've got a great batch of Gumbo going on the stove, and french bread. We're picking up our King Cake (and here in Saint Louis you HAVE to call a real bakery and ask for the traditional almond paste King Cake ... traditional cakes don't have crazy fruit filling like Soulard's "traditional" cake claims!) and we will celebrate family, food .... so as the Cajun's say "Laissez les bons temps rouler!"

Let the good times roll!