I long for some of the days of my youth that are mere memories now. Oh to be carefree and to think only about me again!  It was a treat to reconnect with classmates the closer the reunion date came.  The committee set up a website for all of us to share our information so we could see who we are now, where we’ve been, what we’ve done and if we were going to make it to the weekend-long events in July.  You bet I was.  I loved high school! I did well academically and athletically, was friends with everyone and I was just happy to be alive. I moved out of state as soon as I graduated and wanted to go back to the little town in Texas that helped shape my early adult years.  I had been able to stay in touch with some friends, but not too many as we all became busy with our professional and personal lives.  The rush of memories and the chance to make new ones this reunion weekend made me giddy like the teenager I used to be.

A few weeks before my trip though, I got really nervous. As much as I still felt a part of the class of ’89, I knew I’d be bringing some emotional stuff to the reunion.  I hadn’t seen some of my classmates since the 10-year reunion. Others, I hadn’t seen since graduation night June 1989—we’ve all changed, grown up, moved on and turned into real live adults.  Many of us are parents, but I hadn’t heard if any of them had special needs kids like mine.  I wanted this weekend to be fun and a break from the daily stress I live while being Mom of the Century to five young children. 

I joke with my sister that I use one of the social networking sites to go back to my past since I’m afraid of my future.  The older my son Ronan gets, the more scared of the world and our future I become.  Many of us from high school were able to reconnect via the internet as we planned our big get together.  I learned that the guys who were the loudest and most attention-getting were now Dads.  Oh, how proud I was of each of them.  They grew up! The girls in my class—holy hot stuff, they are gorgeous women!  They were successful business women or Super Moms like me.  Even so, I had the tiniest anxiety of how out of place I may feel when I finally get to see them all, be in the same room with them and do what people do at reunions—talk and visit and share and enjoy.

I joked with my best friend Shannon, who accompanied me to the outings since my husband stayed home to watch our kids, “Maybe they won’t recognize me…”  As we walked into the bar Friday night for the first get together, we both heard the loudest, “CATHY!  We’re so glad you made it!”  Since I had traveled half-way across the country to be with these people for just a few short hours, I was overwhelmingly humbled and felt welcomed back into the days of my youth with the 80s music blaring in the background. 

Rounds of hugs and “OHMYGOSH you look fantastic!” echoed over and over again.  Chit chat, engaging conversations, sharing of pictures and success stories were seen and snapped on digital cameras.  Shannon and I made our way through the small groups catching up with these kids I used to idolize and hang out with.  It felt surreal but had that right-at-home feeling too. 

How could I not talk about my son who rules and runs my life now?  Ronan has created a new person in me.  I stand on a perpetual (and thanks to the Internet, virtual) soap box.  I used to be so quiet, so silly and so go-with-the-flow, hang out in the back of the crowd and don’t you dare call attention to me even when I just ran a race and won a medal.  That’s the me some of these people will remember.  How they react to who I am now and the cause I champion (i.e., fighting those damn vaccines) made me nervous. 

It’s only slowly, as I came to grips of who this child of mine was over the last few years, that I’ve had to change and become a very informed person, the kind that sounds like an annoying reference book focusing on topics that others take as a given and even for granted.  Ronan has shaped so many parts of the new me.  Did I want to bring that up at a reunion?  There would be plenty of time for us late thirty-somethings to talk at the events…did I want to talk about Ronan, vaccines, autism, the law or just keep quiet about what’s happened to me and my son and pretend things were just peachy after all these years? 

Turns out, I didn’t have to.  People came to me.

My brother’s best friend in high school came up to me with open arms.  Damien had me roaring laughing many, many times in class at school and at track meets.  His newest baby was born not even a week before my return to Texas—I was so proud of him, a new Dad again.  I wondered if he knew anything about vaccines though.  We hugged and smiled, not knowing where to start since we had so much to share with many years of separation between the last reunion.  He came right out and said, “Cat, what’s this autism stuff you write about?”  Boom.  That could be a conversation make-or-break question.  “Are you just compassionate for the cause or is it more?” he went on to ask.  

I took a deep breath and explained what we’d discovered with Ronan’s medical issues, how I had started to look for a connection, any connection, and what had been revealed when we connected the dots.  How I’d walked into doctor’s offices and marched right out not letting their arrogance or attitude stop my quest for answers.  How I didn’t just stop searching for Ronan but continue to read and now write as much as I can so other families can avoid unnecessary damage and pain to their children.  Damien nodded his head, shared some stories of his own family’s experiences and offered another hug of ‘hang in there, sister, I get it and I believe it.’  Yea, me!  Yea, Damien!

Not having more than a second to catch my breath, another guy friend yells out over the music, “Yeah, Cat!  Don’t stop writing what you’re writing about. I know exactly what you’re saying and it’s true!”  Rick?!  What?  You read my posts? You know this stuff I speak of?  Really?  Tell me more.  Another conversation, another believer, another hug.  Thank you, Rick.

Shannon and I made the rounds, catching up with old friends and life-long friends even though distance is between us.  Both of us could not believe how old we were to have an event like this to go to but were forced to believe it since we were so tired and not feeling like the spring chickens we used to be back in the day. 

After a full day traveling to the reunion, we had to call it a night and started our goodbyes.  I missed seeing some classmates but knew Saturday night was another chance to catch up with everyone again.  I left the bar with a little more confidence.  I thought it might be okay to be that 1-in-150 parent (which is now 1 in 91).  I was representing the autism community!  I could do this thing with people I knew and loved from so long ago.  As much as I hated being that one person, I would stand up and let Ronan’s story be a reminder of how one decision can change a life forever.

Saturday night’s dinner was fantastic. I was leaving Sunday to head back home so this was the last chance to see everyone, to have some fun, full of laughing and catching up.  I was again nervous since it was a dress-up thing.   There’s just no time for that stuff at home.  Shannon was my date again as we headed into town.  At the awards portion of the dinner, I laughed so hard at the comments from the emcees. We got to hear some under-the-microphone comments from the guys you may consider the class clowns. Oh, the memories of how they carried on. Some things don’t change which is good. I needed the belly laughs to really remind myself that as hard as life gets, laughing can be a cure. 

After the formal sit-down, it was time to mingle. There were so many people I hadn’t gotten to see Friday night and Saturday night was quickly coming to an end. There was one person in particular I wanted to say hello too. He was one of the guys in school you could hear before you could see.  He was one of the ones I was so happy to read about on our class reunion website.  He had become a Dad and ‘grew up.’  I darted over to Marc before he got up to talk to people. I felt silly going up to him to say, “Wow, you did it!  You grew up!  Look at you!”  I was really proud of him though. Something drew me to him and I needed to say thanks for all those laughs in high school, God love you and continued good luck to you and your beautiful family. 

I was more surprised when his wife looked at me and said, “Hey, you’re the one that writes about autism stuff, aren’t you?”  Yep, that’s me.  She stood up, hugged me and said thank you. Surprised, I looked at Anne and Marc and knew that they too were 1-in-150.  We talked as much as we could before other friends grabbed us for pictures and to share their stories.  How amazing it was on one hand to feel relieved I wasn’t the only one representing, but saddened that Marc, this former crack-me-up kid who I loved for being so hilarious, goes through some of the same pain I do.  The feeling I had to go up and just say thank you for the memories from high school turned into a different kind of thank you.  I got an renewed instant friendship with 100% belief in the new me I have become.  Wow!

It was a weekend of emotions for me: to leave my busy family and endless duties to peek at my past.  To rekindle friendships and remember forgotten stories, to laugh at our mistakes while making future plans, to be thankful for the simpler times while preparing for real life again.  That weekend was a nice break from reality if just for the 72 hours I got to sneak away. Thank God for Steve who made me go because I wouldn’t stop bugging him about my trying to get back there.  I would of course much rather had him accompany me to the reunion, but he stayed home and kept everyone safe and happy. 

It’s like that cliché about the season of life changing. I definitely feel that the seasons of my life are changing faster than some of my friends with typical children.  We all know it takes a lot of energy and emotion to raise kids.  Add a special needs kid (and a houseful of typical kids) and you’ve got the makings of a mixed-up emotionally and energy-drained tired thirty-something clinging to the past.  It’s not so bad to hold onto some of the memories since the future really is scary.  Thankfully, finding friends from the past to support me in the future is what I got at my reunion.   

I came home to the usual—our family life revolves around Ronan and his needs.  We’re all still here, surviving, learning, living and loving each other the only way we know how.  We deal with the struggles, celebrate the wows, share everything and keep hoping for better and even the best.  It’s the only way we know how to live.  Ronan keeps us going, keeps us on our toes, keeps us hoping for more when he does something amazing.  We wonder how much more of the negatives we can handle.  He’s the stop sign, the yield sign and the welcome-to-my-world sign.  We never expected to live this type of life, it’s certainly not one we signed up for it, but as this season in our life changes again, we’ll bundle up, grab whatever we need to survive it and get there together.

Cathy, a former Lady Greyhound, is mom to five children. She and her husband Steve have turned into advocates for their son and his special need because that’s just how life is.  Cathy manages the Age of Autism FaceBook page.