THE REUNION

[February 4, 2015]

“For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord” (1Thes. 4:16:17).

Despite the absence of a nanny, permanent or temporary, and the overwhelming presence of chronic body pain and alarming aching knee, I miraculously made it somehow to our class reunion last Saturday. Of course, I came in late; I was just true to form, maintaining my untainted reputation from the days in secondary, when I believed “L” in Ma’am Claire’s unquestionable class record stood for “Lovely.”

Well, isn’t it lovely that there were instances when the same class record by our lady mentor nonpareil showed that for the whole week I got straight “A’s”? Definitely it isn’t, here “A” means “Absent,” but then in America a school child with a straight “A” would end up an Ivy Leaguer and has a brighter future to face.

But it’s also totally correct in my case, I nonchalantly live now in a house facing the sun when it rises. And assured as well by the Word to later live in peace, in the City where brightness would never cease.

Among the permissive perks and privileges of attending high school class re-gathering is having the rare chance to let out a child in everyone by turning back the hands of time again. Like, for once, you speak in teener’s tongue with a rehashed joke you keep on delivering, or teasing the same kid—now a quinquagenarian like you—with whom you were fondly kidding.

On the debit side, during the reunion, no way you could lie about your age. You try to subtract a year or two and you’d see a raised eyebrow from your classmates.

That same Saturday, our batch did elect a new set of officers as our all-time favorite Diding P., as in President, and pending her pink slip or clearance from physician, she begged off to relinquish the throne for the moment. What surprised me a lot was when members of our class did nominate perennial presidential candidates the latter were all as reluctant as ever.

I had a bigger surprise though however, when I terrifyingly found out not one among them was my supporter after I nominated myself for Class Treasurer. No, not even Imok, a close buddy, considered my nomination. I grumbled quietly, do people easily detect a hidden intention?

After the peaceful and Smartmatic-free election, the chic and always seductive Che was unanimously voted as the class’s new Her Majesty. And all hopes were pinned on her regarding the next reunion when everyone would be wishing to still possess their ageless beauty.

And as I quietly looked back at my alma mater over the hilltop after I descended slowly, taking my last step before the gateway, I asked myself, “Will I be alive the next reunion someday?”

I dunno, the future’s not mine to determine and/or to see, and I remember the one song that excites every true Christian about gathering in unity: “Oh, what a meeting there in the skies; Goodbye forever to Earth’s dark nights; Loved ones united eternally; Heaven will open, Jesus I see.”