This past weekend I participated in a program at my fortieth college reunion.  It was called “Eureka moments” and consisted of 5-minute talks about moments that changed the course of our lives.  Mine involved the birth of our older son with a severe meconium aspiration, followed shortly by my father’s death.

This entry is not about that moment, but about this moment, giving my talk.  I “overprepared” for the talk, writing and rewriting it repeatedly, cutting out extraneous words and phrases.  I knew I was going to be presenting it to a special group of people, and I wanted it to be perfect.

I felt confident that the talk would go well, but I underestimated how well.  The 150 listeners gave their rapt attention to every word I said, and laughed heartily even when I didn’t expect it–both quotes from my dad.  Afterwards I got thanks, handshakes, hugs, and shared stories which were similar to mine, but sometimes with a less happy ending.

I felt I showed my college classmates who I am, and they affirmed me.  It was a wonderful feeling.  I will never forget it.