In high school I was part of a group of five girls. All of us had other friends, but we were a group unto ourselves. Not particularly “cliquish;” as far as I know, there was no one outside of our group trying to get in. It was just the five of us together on a regular basis. In February, at a mini high school reunion, four of the five of us were together for the first time in thirty years. Prior to this, we’d had one brief dinner when we were in our early forties. That was the first get-together since we drifted our separate ways after graduation. It was fun but we were all busy, we lived in different cities, and so thirty years flew by.

This past weekend, the five of us reunited for an extended afternoon lunch. Here’s the weird part. It’s like the decades melted away. We’ve all been through changes, but it seems not one of us have changed much. To be honest some of us had maintained contact; two are neighbours of each other and I see one of these friends a few times a year, particularly since I’ve been on my own. But still, all five together changed the dynamic.

In my own humble opinion of myself, I have changed more than I would have thought possible, and yet, I’ve stayed the same. It seems this is true of my friends. We’ve lived very different lives, survived our own traumas, faced the slings and arrows of our circumstances, and there we were, lapsing into conversations and patterns as if we had skipped school together yesterday. I think many of us have people like this in our lives—those who remind us who once were, and who we still are, underneath the life altering changes, the long and short careers, the children, grandchildren and changes in hair.

My mother’s diary will be published in September. I was always impressed with her ability to maintain long-term friendships. Many of the names she mentioned frequently in her diary from her high school days were included on the guest list to the 50th Anniversary party. It’s a privilege to have people in your life who you’ve known since childhood.

This is my last post before my summer break. I have no concrete plans, there is no big trip on the horizon, just vague notions of visiting here and there and hopefully more reunions. That’s what makes a summer a summer. It’s a sweet and fleeting season, make the most of it. I’ll return after Labour Day.

Keep your joy.

Anne Milne is an every Sunday blogger, unless it’s a holiday weekend. Or summertime.