Back to A Future

I didn't enjoy Cocoon the first time, I definitely didn’t want to spend a weekend living it.

60 years since High School graduation? Six-O??

I know it sounds mean, but, come on . . .  The movie Cocoon sprang instantly to mind. The opening scene, with all the oldsters from the nursing home fading like milky mashed potatoes . . .  Not exactly my idea of fun . . . 

 

As soon as we arrived, my mom’s BFF, June, pulled me over to introduce Tommy, a “former beau” of my mother’s.

“Your Grandfather scared the hell out of me once,” Tommy blurted out. 

Mom and Tommy. Poppy must not have scared him too badly, he still has his hair . . .

Tommy recalled how he brought mom home a few minutes late from a date one night and my grandfather charged out of the house hollering at the top of his lungs.

I knew—everyone knew—how strict my grandfather had been.

"So," I asked Tommy. "What did you do when you saw Poppy charging the car? 

“ Put it in reverse and got the hell out of there!”

That story, and a few others like it, were for me Class of '54 reunion highlights—who doesn't love imagining their parents as naughty kids?

After that, the Saturday reunion lunch was mostly a game of “Remember when?” Great fun for Mom and her friends trying to remember.

For me? With nothing to remember . . .  I tried sneaking out my phone so I could disappear into Facebook, but Mom caught me and gave me “THE LOOK” (How old must we be before we can ignore “THE LOOK”?) What saved me from diving headfirst was a photo display and Class of ‘54 memorabilia. As luck had it, one of mom’s classmates volunteered at the Pajaro Valley Historical Association. 

The display included the beloved Coach’s bronzed hat, one student’s class notes, sports uniforms, etc. Leather football helmets.

During introductions, someone mentioned how for him watching Happy Days was like reliving high school.

(I wondered which character he fancied himself: the Fonz? Richie Cunningham? (Mom, & her friends: June, Marcia, Betty, Carolyn, Gracie were way too cool to be LaVern or Shirley, weren't they?) 

 

That memorabilia display was visiting the Happy Days set.

Was I looking forward to Sunday brunch? For Mom, sure. For me, ah . . . yes and No. 

If I ask mom a question. About anything, anytime. She claims not to remember and whines "Don't ask me!" 

I couldn’t see how, after the long Saturday lunch, she, or any of  them, really,  would find more to talk about. Then it happened.

Maybe it was the rare Watsonville drizzle. Dana, the brunch hostess's zen backyard. The carrot cake, or some elixir in the mimosas and coffee. . . . 

Before my eyes, in the same way Jessica Tandy, Hume Cronyn and the others were youth-enized, mom and her classmates came back to the present and gave me hope for the future in a  League of Their Own way.

Rosie O'Donnell told Alec Baldwin she got the part because she knew how to play baseball. 

Joyce Hill Westerman, one of the real Ballplayers. Read more on her!

You know the part at the end of the movie where the former members of the Woman’s Professional Baseball League gather at the Baseball Hall of Fame to celebrate the opening of their exhibit?

How as the women begin recognizing each other, swapping stories, rediscovering their younger selves, the years seem to roll back until, by the end they’re hollering “Play Ball!”

That's how, at the Sunday Class of '54 Reunion brunch, as “way back when” morphed into “present day”—after the after the game, so to speak—the transformation happened.

Having reminded themselves and each other who they’d been, Mom’s friends began sharing who we are NOW selves: Vibrant, interested, active in the community, volunteering at food banks and shelters, rabid football fans, jokesters, gardeners, grandmothers, greats. . . 

“As much as they were my mother’s friends, they could have been mine. I wanted them to be mine.”

While I listened, and laughed, I thought of myself and my friends, my classmates, my writing buds:  Some of them young—young enough to be my daughter, young; Some my age; Others of them old—old enough to have played, smoked straws on the roof, ogled boys, gone to grammar-high school-this reunion with Mom, old.

Rather than making me feel sad, it gave me hope. OLD ISN’T MANDATORY!

I could become them. This is my time. But, tomorrow can be—will be—my time too, with all the possibilities!

At the end of the weekend, everyone bid farewell, calling “See you next time!” Me as loudly as the rest.

Back to the Future Playlist :

Middle Age Boogie Blues by Saphire Young at Heart sung by Frank Sinatra   

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