Tonight is our 40th High School Class Reunion. I
realize that by admitting that I’m also admitting my age. Oh, well. Times like
these make me thoughtful and reflective of my life; of things past that with a
single prompt become a flood of once-buried memories.
David just came downstairs with his Southport High School Anchor
1974 Yearbook. He opened it to the back, to the page I had signed and what I
wrote to him in the spring of 1974. He made me read it out loud to him as we ate
breakfast. Keep in mind, we were only friends. Well, not “only.” He kissed me
once in high school. Only once. We had a sweet and significant friendship. But
we never really dated in high school.
Here’s a snippet of what I
wrote:
"David
Lee,
Well, David, we’ve come a long way
from 9th grade Christmas dances to serious walks in the park and a
real understanding of each other. Our closeness is different, you know. It’s
kind of a mutual smile that means I care and a kind of feeling you get when love
is near. You know you’re the one person I’m not worried about not seeing after
school is out. I feel like our togetherness is for eternity."
"Maybe I should be more realistic,
but I don’t want to ever be without you. I need you. I guess I can feel like since
we’re both going to IU, we will still have each other. But what’s after that? I
can feel dependent and confident with you around. I hope I give you the same
feeling of security. Dave Lee, remember band, Garfield Park, Pizza’s,
orchestra, the dance, being at my home talking, and memories like that. What I
remember more, though, is your face; especially your smile."
"I don’t feel like I’m saying what I
want to say. Maybe that’s another thing about close friends. They can’t really
say what they feel. So how’s this: My thoughts are with you. My thoughts are
deep and close and loving and warm and tender when you’re in my head and you’re
in my head a lot. Did you know that? You’re smile, I’ll remember always."
"Take
care, my friend. Remember, the Lord is coming.
Love in Christ, Beth Ann
McLaughlin"
When I read these words out loud, David called them “prescient.”
They read to me like foreshadowing; as though God, through the experience of me
grappling with words to express my feelings, was telling me something I knew in
my heart—but didn’t know. I read them today with amazement and gratitude for
God’s overwhelming grace in our marriage; in David and me finding one another,
choosing one another, and continuing to choose and prefer each other for more
than 35 years. God’s grace is the only word that explains what we’ve had
together.
As we celebrate with old friends and a few current friends
tonight, I have a mixture of nervousness and eager anticipation. I hope and
pray for meaningful connections with people who were part of such a formative
time in my life. I pray for moments of Llight like this one.
And by the way, I should add what I wrote as a P.S. in David’s
Yearbook: “In case of rapture, see you up there!! Maranatha!” A signature obviously
influenced by Hal Lindsey—a big sensation in those days :).