Reflections

Discussions have started in order to organize and plan for my high school class' Silver Jubilee (25th) anniversary reunion in 2013. I have never set foot to return to the campus grounds for twenty years, but somehow, memories and flashes of images follow me, often in my sleeping moments.

I say that because I tend to have unexpected night dreams about them; frozen in time where I, along with familiar faces of schoolmates, would roam and play on the grassy lawn or concrete paths. Some of my dreams would involve walking the corridors, following the bell signals, hoisting the flag, and taking some quiet time in the chapel. What often suprised me would be clear faces of schoolmates whom I haven't quite thought of in a long, long time, dressed in our school uniform or PE (Physical Education) bloomers, white T-shirt, headband, and rubber shoes marked with our names.

The month of March was high school graduation, and next month will be twenty one years later.

With connections and re-acquaintances aided by technology (email, Facebook, Friendster, other online social network), I am amazed to discover about how our paths led us to our current lives and how they are continuing to forge themselves after the shared experiences of being Theresians together (prep, elementary, high school) in our formative years during a very interesting, fascinating, and tumultuous decade. I admire those who have kept tight friendships through the years or discovered new ones that have endured and expanded with spouses, children, professional and other creative ventures. And I am especially amazed by the sense of commitment and ingenuity among those who are creating opportunities, ideas, and inspiration to revisit and rekindle the Theresian spirit as we prepare to leave our collective legacy that makes Batch 1988 uniquely its own.

In expressing my personal sentiments to honor and remember, I wrote the poem below quite some time ago.

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Journeys

Familiar faces and sounds
Of long ago memories
And sheltered innocence
Find their way in sleeping dreams.
I try to remember
I try to recover
Echoes of fading hymns.
Voices that sang and spoke,
Asked, argued, and provoked;
Were the same voices that laughed,
Played, cried, and consoled.
Time does not dim the faces of youth
As I find myself return
To remember laces of truth
Sewn by needles and threads
On fabric of once white and blue.
Years have passed, treading separate ways
Living, loving, giving...healing, surviving;
Innocence unraveled by relentless summoning
Of beating hearts and unique identities.