Reunions

I am blogging from home. I don't feel well, so I left work early today. I think I'm getting a cold, thanks to the rapidly fluctuating weather (50 degrees one day, 85 the next) lately and the buckets of pollen coating everything here in a Chee-to-like dust. Throw in some stress in my personal life, and you have the perfect cocktail for an instant, sicky feeling. Blech.

In between coughs, I have been napping all day, so now I'm wired. Hacking up a lung and wired. Thank God for Hall's Fruit Breezers cough drops, though. Have y'all tried these things? They ROCK if your throat is scratchy and irritated. Mmmm...and they taste good. Not all menthol-y like the other ones.

Before you stop reading this ultra-boring post, I do have one thing to ask my readers. I recently found out that although this year is the 10th anniversary of my high school graduation, there are NO plans in the works for our reunion. I am kind of miffed, as I probably would have gone. But at the same time, part of me isn't even interested in going. Makes no sense, I know. There is a rumor that a small group of people are scrambling around, throwing together a far less formal get-together for this summer. So hopefully that will happen....?

My question to you is, are these things even fun? Did you go to yours? Was it lame? You think I should go if/when it happens? Please tell me your experiences in the high school reunion department. And keep in mind that my high school was basically like "Beverly Hills 90210". No exaggeration. So I don't know if going would leave me filled with envy or total annoyance. Or maybe they've all become human by this point. Who knows.

Ok, story time. This also has to do with reunions. (See, who says I bounce around topics in my posts? There are over-arching themes, people!)

The first time I heard this story, I cried. So go get your kleenex, ladies. I'll wait.

Yes, I know, it's sad, yadda yadda, but it's a good story. This is probably the saddest story I've ever heard in my whole life, btw. Except for maybe Old Yeller. Sad dog stories always trump sad people stories, in my book.

Alright, are you sufficiently mentally prepared? Good.

Time: 1945
Place: Kansas City, MO

My Grandma Virginia (yes, I am named after her) was dating this guy before WWII broke out. (I think his name was Charlie?? Carl? Something with a C.) They were crazy about each other and had planned on getting married. The two families were very excited about this, as Virginia and Charlie had grown up together and the families were very close.

Then WWII happened. Charlie had to go to Europe. They decided to wait and get married until after the war. He gave her this gorgeous locket to remember him by, complete with his picture on the inside. It is a large, gold heart-shaped locket, with a mother-of-pearl cover and a delicate chain. He even got the back engraved with "From Charlie to Virginia with Love" and the date. (We still have it.) Then he left.

She was sad, but kept herself busy. One day, she stopped getting letters. Then she heard through the grapevine that he was missing in action, presumed dead. She was devastated.

So, to try and move on with her life, Virginia got a job. She moved away from home and all the bad memories in Kansas City and went out to the Seattle area and worked at the big Boeing plant there, where they were building all the planes for the war. She was a secretary at the headquarters office. One morning, she was working as usual, busy at her desk, when a very tall, thin man with blue eyes walked up to her desk, leaned over and said, "How 'bout a cup of coffee, babe?"

Virginia looked up. "I'm John S. I'm a reporter and I'm here to interview your boss. Now how 'bout that coffee?"

She smiled and got the coffee. She didn't realize it yet, but she had just met my grandfather. They were married about a year later, in January of 1945.

After the wedding, they packed up and headed to New Orleans for their honeymoon. That night, back in Kansas City, Virginia's mother got a phone call.

"Hello?" she answered.
"Hello, is Virginia there?" a male voice inquired.
"No, I'm sorry, she's on her honeymoon," my great-grandmother explained.

*long silence*

"Oh......alright. Sorry to bother you. Thanks," he said. Then he hung up.

My great-grandmother hung up the phone and turned to Virginia's sister, who was sitting at the table next to her. "Oh my God. I swear to God that was Charlie. He must have come home from the war. He's not dead. I know that voice," she said.

They decided never to tell Virginia that Charlie wasn't dead. They never did tell her. The only reason I know the story is because my Grandma Virginia's sister told Czarina one day after my grandma died.

Grandma never got rid of the locket. She kept it hidden in the back of her jewelry drawer and would take it out on occasion and look at it. My grandpa was always jealous of Charlie, and it would have upset him to know she kept it all those years.

I wonder what happened to Charlie, though. I'm sure he got married to someone else and led a wonderful life. But this is still the saddest story ever!