The storm clouds are piling high. |
Robert's high school is having a reunion the last of June, and he wants to go. Adams High School doesn't exist any more; well, the building is still there, but the school only goes through the eighth grade now. Any way, he wants to go, so we'll go. I think he went to a reunion right after he graduated and hasn't since. Therefore, forty-six years after he graduated, he's going to possibly his last reunion. I don't mind accompanying him to the afternoon of visiting and the dinner. Meeting his former schoolmates is fine. The problem is his brother and sisters want to also have a mini family reunion the same time. Robert's family has never accepted me. I've never measured up to their lofty opinions of themselves. Whenever they see me, they ask, "Well, how's the writing going?" Only they ask with a sneer and often with other comments that let me know they don't believe I could write my way out of a paper bag with both ends open. I so want to be able to show them a book with my name on it and wipe the sneer off their faces. But that's a dream, and this is real life. I'll go into the lions' den without any armor again - all because I love my husband. Oh, the reunion blues done got my mind atwitter. Oh, the reunion blues turn my life upside down. Oh, the reunion blues just keep on making my life a living . . . *sigh* I'm still alive, if not well. |