The Fabric of Our Lives

Thanks to my wife and the author, Phillippa Gregory (Virgin Earth), I have at last come to understand the phrase "Fabric of our Lives". I never paid much attention to that phrase until just recently. Picture using a shuttle to weave the woof and the warp, thus creating fabric . The terms and phrase are metaphors for our lives or our characters. Thus, the woof and warp (people, events, places, etc) create the fabric (our character or persona) and determine the kind of person we are. Some "threads" are more colorful than others, some more "intended" than others, some more "random" than others, some "prettier" than others, some more "dominant" than others, but that "loom" just keeps on spinning and the woof and warp continue to weave and enlarge the fabric....

Sometime during 2008, on a whim, I made a list of all the places I've lived - scattered throughout Kentucky, Ohio, New York, North Carolina, and now, Tennessee. From that list, it was an easy jump to make a few notes about my life in each of those places. One more little jump, and I was writing most anything I could remember about my life at each place. And somewhere along the way, I tried to add a little humor. And some young boy foibles. I ended up with what you read here on my blog. There are several different posts, the longest being "Still Trudging Down Memory Lane," that are the result of those woofs and warps weaving away constantly for so many years and creating the fabric of my life. I thought of all the events in my life that have molded me into what I am -- deaths, loves, divorces, promotions, perceived non-promotions, accidents, recognitions, disappointments, deceptions, etc.... But all those things are done and gone and have had their effect upon me and dropped by the wayside. And of course, there have been numerous organizations that contributed greatly to my "fabric." But far more important are the people who have influenced me. We often find out that we made an impression upon a young person of which we had no idea. Hopefully, they were good impressions. I can look back and remember as a young boy the impressions some of my older cousins and aunts and uncles made upon me. I began to think of all the people I have known over the years and how we each contribute, perhaps only in a very small way, to each other's character and development. I remember the vast majority of those people with fondness and with gratitude. Yes, there were some I was not so grateful to, but even they usually managed to contribute a few "threads" of value.

Except for those close friends and family we constantly keep in touch with, I daresay most of those people only occupied a few years in our lives. They came and they went and they deposited their threads and were gone. And we were left with a myriad of memories. We hated to see them leave, but that was simply the way of things. But to have a static group of people in one's life for four years or more with whom you matured, socialized, loved, disliked, competed, worried, and played was a once in a lifetime opportunity. For many, service in the Armed Forces wove a fabric forged in iron and taught us how to be loyal and true to our comrades and we learned we could do that we never thought we were capable of doing. But for the great majority, I suspect high school occurred at a time in our life when we were most susceptible to character influences and we saw how the choices we made influenced ourselves and our classmates over a four-year period. After so many bolts of fabric being woven over those years, we looked forward to taking our fabric out into the world and creating a grand tapestry! Some ended up being grand, some not so grand, and the great majority being somewhere in between. But we all made a tapestry! In our rush to get started, most, or at least some of us, woke up a few years later and realized that those friends and classmates were no longer around. Whoa, we were on our own! We adapted and plunged into our new lives and our plans to be governors, or business tycoons, or teachers, or doctors, or nurses, or most importantly, parents.

Five years passed from the time of leaving our friends behind and that first reunion rolled around and everyone showed up with ONE goal in mind -- impress and show our friends what a success we were. Judgemental, cliquish, condescending, strutting, etc.

At the tenth-year reunion, we had all settled down somewhat and truly were more focused upon seeing and being interested in the lives of our classmates.

From the 15th-year reunion on, it seemed to me that all the cliques, the artificiality, the need to impress were gone. Now, at the least for those who had moved away, friends were missed and remembered fondly and were wondered about. We learned of deaths of classmates and tried to accept what seemed impossible.

And now, forty-six years later, and a little more aware of our mortality, many of us look forward to reconnecting with those classmates who had such an influence in our lives. SO, we look forward to that reunion every five years and hugging our friends and trying to make sure they know how much they meant to us in our lives. But then, something comes up and you cannot make a reunion and now it will have been ten years since last seeing those friends. And ten years is a long time at this age! :-)

And now to the point of this rambling discourse. I picture a gathering, like a Kiwanis, or Lions Club meeting, every quarter or so, at a local restaurant in Winchester -- maybe the Chinese place -- where CCHS and GRC classmates can know they will gather there on that specified date and time to reconnect, to eat if desired, and to laugh and remember and retell funny stories and remember those we have lost. No big deal, no formal invitations, just an initial announcement spread by word of mouth. I'll bet the restaurant would be willing to extend a 15% discount or so to those classmates! Come if you like and stay as long as you like. It wouldn't be limited to one specific year -- those of any class would be welcome.

Obviously, someone has to step up and say I will work on this. Right away, the names of a handful of "girls" comes to mind who have always stepped up to the plate before. And if they (you know who you are! :-)) feel like doing so again, GREAT! But for those of us who typically say, "You organize it and I'll be there", we need to say, "I'll give it a try this time with some help from my friends!"

I just recently got in contact with a handful of those people through Facebook. For those interested in my e-mail, it is jamesalandrum atgmail dot com. I guess that is how one is supposed to post one's e-mail to prevent address gatherers or whomever. But then maybe not.... The phone number for Anne and I is 423-842-3782. We live in Hixson, a suburb of Chattanooga -- twenty minutes off I-75 if you are headed south! I met Anne in the fall of '63 at UK but let her get away about 5 times until I caught her in 1998. We retired and lived in the mountains of NC for 10 years and moved here two years ago. And although we are in the heart of Dixie I'm as "true blue" as ever!

My very best wishes to everyone.