If you’ve been following my posts the last few days, you know that I recently celebrated—yes, celebrated—50 years since graduating high school.

There is a unique kind of comfort in walking into a room full of people who remember the exact same teachers, the exact same local hangouts, and the exact same songs of your youth. Seriously, I never realized just how 1970s music played such an important part of my life until this weekend! Being with classmates this weekend I didn’t have to explain the context of my hometown roots to anyone; everyone just gets it.

By the time 50 years roll around, thank goodness, the high school cliques and awkward teenage insecurities have completely evaporated. What’s left is genuine warmth, mutual respect, and a shared gratitude for the journey. Our class has always been close. We graduated 88 strong back in 1976 from Madison High School. While 10 of our classmates have sadly passed away and are always remembered, an incredible 64 of us showed up this past weekend to be together once again.

One of the absolute highlights was when Jody Bendel brought out our senior pictures blown up on giant posters! I believe it was Cindy Hansen’s brilliant idea to have us hold our 18-year-old faces while having our pictures taken. Talk about a reality check! We shared a lot of laughs looking at how much we’ve changed—mostly because we all had a lot more hair back then.

Catching up at Bornhorsts on Friday night and the VFW on Saturday, I realized just how long and winding everyone’s path has been, full of twists, turns, triumphs, and challenges. Sharing those life stories was incredibly heartwarming. Of course, at our age, the conversation naturally turned to comparing notes on our various health issues and surgeries. Hey, that’s just who we are now! It’s not a reunion until someone swaps a joint replacement story!

But the best part for me was simply hearing the roaring laughter and watching everyone hug. You could literally feel the love in the room. Even though we don’t see each other often, the second we get together, it’s like no time has passed at all. About 30 of us decided to stay around the Madison area after graduation, which is a pretty great percentage.

It was also fascinating to hear about everyone’s careers. We turned out a mix of doctors, farmers, truck drivers, pastors, missionaries, an airline pilot, accountants, teachers, and a police officer, just to name a few. I should mention that I and a select few others are actually still working full-time—mostly because we choose to, while the rest of our smart classmates have already embraced retirement!

I also made it a point to spend time visiting with the classmates’ spouses. I always feel a little bit sorry for the spouses at class reunions; they usually look a bit like fish out of water, smiling politely while we relive the glory days. But I have a secret weapon: I married a classmate! Going to a reunion where both you and your spouse know every single person in the room is a true luxury.

Someone said to me this weekend that high school represents the best days of your life. Personally, I don’t look at it that way. Our high school days weren’t the best days; they were the foundation days. They matter because they represent our starting line, and looking back on them is wonderful because we shared that starting line together. We had a fantastic foundation to get us going in life, so a massive thank you to the teachers, staff, and administration at Madison High School back in the 1970s for giving us such a great start.