PAULA FOLINO’S STORY 

The one phrase I keep hearing over and over from fellow alums is "It can't possibly be forty years!" Just think...we were seniors then. (And we’re seniors now, too).

Some perspective here … back in 1973, 40 years prior was 1933. Think of the cultural difference between those two dates! In '73 we had polyester bell bottoms, boy perms, plaid clothes and wide ties. Our background music was Chicago, The Who, Simon and Garfunkel. In 1933, women were wearing cloche hats, bias cut dresses and listening to Duke Ellington and Ethel Waters. A man always wore a hat when he left the house, and only a bore would keep it on indoors. 1933 versus 1973 is quite a contrast.

It's now 2013, and forty years prior was … 1973. At that time, our parents were younger than we are now, for the most part.

For four years we were locked together in Catholic school, hormones teeming, music playing, working part time jobs, experimenting with adulthood. My senior year was a year of extremes; it was fun and exciting, but I was scared and sad about leaving my safe cocoon.

In retrospect, it was the only time in my life where for an extended period of time I felt grounded, safe, secure, happy, challenged, successful, blossoming, accepted, and free. Many of you had very different feelings about high school. To me, it was a refuge. It was best four years of my life. That might come as a surprise to some.

Forty years ago, it didn’t take much to be rebellious and I was very proud of attempts to rebel. Smoking in the rest room, skipping class, bringing up controversial subjects in class and not letting them rest were a few ways I got on my inner Abbie Hoffman. It all seems so innocuous now. I was an art-room girl, and having that creative space and all my art room friends to hang out with made life wonderful. I carry those memories of impromptu musical numbers and x-acto knife mishaps with me, and I know that my life without those experiences would have been way too ordinary.

The walls of BK were like an incubator of friendships, some which are still ongoing. Instead of shared whispers about boyfriends and girlfriends, outfits for the dances, and teachers we duped, we now speak of cleaning out our parents’ homes, seeing children wed, welcoming grandkids, losing jobs, or facing life-threatening illnesses. You all have your own lists. Our ties are deeper, as is our subject matter.

Just as our perspectives have changes, so have our bodies and minds. Some were lucky enough to choose good gene pools and are still slim, healthy, and smart. I scored two out of three, but I’m not complaining. We’ve reached adulthood with all its changes and challenges.

Did anyone plan their future? Did it turn out the way you planned it? It rarely does. I believed I would live in an old house in the country with an art studio, cats, a loving husband, kids with clean faces, clothes hung on the line, pies cooling on the window ledge, and a huge coterie of friends that came over for salon-like discussions and good red wine. I won’t get the house in the country, and the kids with clean faces might be my grandchildren, but you know, I’m doing all right with the rest of it. Thanks to reading the likes of Pema Chodrun and Eckhart Tolle, listening to Ray Davies and David Bryne, along with some minimal meds, I’m really pretty darn happy. I feel lucky. So far.

It has been an honor and privilege to connect with so many of you again, and to bring all these plans into fruition. Reconnecting has brought back the warmth and camaraderie I felt when we were young.

Maybe my circle of friends will expand because of this reunion. Maybe you’ll come over to my not-in-the-country house and share a glass of wine or a cup of coffee when you’re in town.

We may have changed physically, and we may have grown intellectually and spiritually. As the Mark Twain quote says, there is no such thing as an ordinary life. Mine isn’t, and either is yours. Please use this blog to tell us about your journey and share a bit about your life, your extraordinary life.