These Dang Reunions

While wrapping up a badminton game with high school pals, as we were packing our things, preparing to go home, I said in jest, We should do this more often! Our reunions should be like this. Not in a way that we just meet each other because someone dies. 

Nobody laughed. The silence was immediately followed with a concerned, Huuuy... Of course, I was reprimanded. I knew beforehand what I said can be, was distasteful. But, I had to say it. My tactlessness had a bad timing — but I knew there was truth it in.

After all those years in school, you go separate ways away from your closest classmates. Those you consider as friends during those years. You go to different schools, different programs, you all grow apart. Texting and group messages transmissions laid low until you no longer know each other's numbers. Social media helped, until it didn't as you got different beliefs, algorithms messed up your presence and relationships with each other.

But then at one point, you'll scroll your feed. You'll see a post saying your classmate's father died. Then another batchmate said goodbye. Then your classmate did. Then another. And another parent does so. That started my thoughts with these reunions, hence that sentiment at the end of that badminton game years ago.

I wish we don't get together wearing all blacks or whites, just to reminisce the good times we all had or giggle with each other — with some laughter we can no longer bring back. Or trying to remember, When were we classmates? Do you remember when Ma'am/Sir did this? Which house do we go to? Did they leave street XYZ? How have they've been?

Unfortunately, the last question could no longer be answered directly. You can just assume with the vessel in front of you (if you wish you take a glimpse) or the stories of people that surrounded them before they took the last air.

Badminton games and table hangouts seldom happen. But if there's one silver lining in these reunions, regardless of how many planned games and hangouts were missed or said no to, no matter how long it has been (may it be two decades have passed), as sorrowful it is, people you're close with or not show up and company the misery and sadness that comes along with it. With hugs and fist bumps. Most of the time, it brings in pictures and lots of chat notifications for a week. Sometimes, it asks with a faint smile, Do you want to drink? with a bottle opener fused in a nail cutter coming in handy.