I’ve just returned from my 50th college reunion and my emotions are all over the place.

I was a fairly indifferent student at a selective school. That is, it was selective if you were a guy. As a woman breaking the gender barrier, not so much. I entered as a junior transfer student and why I decided to attend this formerly all-male bastion is anybody’s guess. The official story: I wanted a rigorous, more personal (out with the 500-seat lecture halls!) academic experience than the one I’d had at the enormous big-city university from which I’d transferred. Throw in the romantic notion of the most gorgeous, bucolic campus anywhere and you’ve got yourself one of the first women at Colgate.

The truth? As a pretty shy person in those days, I figured that with a ratio of 45 women to 450 men, I’d find it easier to nab a boyfriend. Spoiler alert: let’s just say that in my case, this wasn’t an effective strategy.

Still, while I didn’t take advantage of all Colgate had to offer, academically and otherwise, ( why in the world didn’t I join the French club?), I managed to find some of the coursework enriching and to make a handful of friends to get high or drunk on wine coolers with on a Saturday night at “the Inn.”

I hadn’t stayed in touch with too many classmates, though I’d seen one of my roommates, Randi, on and off over the years, and I’d reconnected with another, Susan, at our 45th reunion. So when Susan called to invite me to join the Executive Committee to plan the reunion, I’d just retired, and with event planning right in my wheelhouse. I enthusiastically agreed.

In the run-up to the reunion I appeared on a podcast on Women in Music, and joined the Program Committee to plan a panel discussion on The State of the News Media for which we’d managed to snag some pretty illustrious alumni. And I served on another (live at reunion) panel celebrating the music of our era. Thanks to Susan, I’d gone from invisible student to active alumna, and enjoyed myself tremendously, with the bonus of distraction from my Parkinson’s.

The reunion was just about perfect. I got to hang with Randi and Susan and their husbands, along with a few friends old and new, while reveling in the stunning beauty of our campus,

I was also finally able to shift my self-perception as a bit of an outsider since I only spent two years at Colgate. Nope, I’m a full-fledged member of the Colgate University class of 1973, and I earned my diploma just like everyone else in my class.

Reunions are by definition occasions for reflection. We wonder: why did I take this road and not that? What if I’d actually dated the friend I think had a crush on me? Or followed my heart and majored in French instead of Social Relations?

Going big picture: why (oh why oh why) did I marry that guy? Choose that career? Live in that suburb? Have those kids?

I imagine those sorts of questions swirling in the heads of many of my classmates, since the last time many of of us saw one another was at one of the most pivotal moments of our lives: our college graduation. I survey my fellow alumni as we smile for our reunion class picture and wonder how many of us landed where we expected to, and which of our lives took surprising twists and turns.

I think about the classmates who didn’t attend reunion, some of whose absence was involuntary and who were the subjects of a lovely memorial service Saturday morning.

But what of those who could have attended and chose not to? I suspect that reunions are usually populated with people whose experience at an institution was mostly positive. Or maybe they want to demonstrate their growth or success since their less-than-stellar college days (that would be me, at least a little).

And while we ‘re discussing those who chose not to attend, my thoughts turn to someone I’ll call Toxic Frenemy. Back in the day, in typical Mean Girl fashion, this former friend stopped speaking to me and tried to get others to do the same. She once shoved me, hard, into a radiator. I do wonder what becomes of the typical Mean Girl. Is Toxic Frenemy today a full-blown narcissist or could she have become…nice?

How many of our classmates changed so much that they became unrecognizable – and I don’t mean physically- over the last fifty years? Did other shy people besides me work at becoming more outgoing? Could that party animal really have become a psychiatrist? I heard that that bookish woman on your floor is now a killer Hollywood dealmaker. At the same time, your argumentative roommate is, predictably, a well – known litigator.

And on and on. As the French saying goes, plus ca change…the more things change, the more they stay the same. Maybe for a 72-hour period on an unusually glorious June weekend in a small hamlet in upstate New York, those of us who showed up were at least a little bit changed, and a little bit the same.

Meanwhile, the warm feelings towards Colgate and the friends I made there will, I hope, put a soft glow of nostalgia on my days for a while longer- not a bad thing. Oh, and I forgot to mention my new friend, Eleanor, whom I met through Susan via our participation together on the Women in Music podcast. Hi, Eleanor!

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Recommendations:

Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion

Just plain hilarious. Lisa Kudrow and Mira Sorvino join forces as two less-than-accomplished friends who try to lie their way to respect at their tenth high school reunion. Hollywood, please find another vehicle for these two talented actors.

Blink by Malcolm Gladwell

Gladwell’s seminal book on decision-making sounds dull; it’s anything but. Are we better off making choices on the fly, or do we feel the need to deliberate? And what might be the result of more seat-of-the-pants decisions? A fascinating read, as are his other works. If you don’t know Gladwell yet, you should.