The weekend before last, my church celebrated the First Communion of several dozen of our young parishioners. I was in attendance, as the sacristan of the Mass.

After the Mass had concluded, I was attending to the removal of the altar vessels to the sacristy for cleansing when I was stopped by two young women. Two young women who happened to be classmates in high school.

I graduated in 1994 and really didn’t maintain much contact with those people. Partly because I didn’t much like many of my classmates, and partly because I am highly skilled in the art of allowing personal relationships to grow dormant.

Yet, it was a great pleasure to see Anne and Michelle again. Anne had an infant, and Michelle was excessively pregnant with her second.

I’ve seen and heard of other high-school classmates over the years. Many are married (or divorced) and have children. Some have moved on to respectable achievements; others, despite their early promise, have faded into middle-class obscurity.

Makes me feel old.

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