Meeting up with old friends

 Nigel and I met on the first day of University as very mature 18-year-olds. Well we thought we were and really knew we had it all sorted out. 

So having stayed in touch via tenuous electronic media and the good offices of my brother, we finally met face to face after about *four decades* and had a lovely 20 mile ride around our local villages bookended by a number of pints and a pub quiz.

And the obvious question for both of us was sort of "Well, how did life go as your hair went from that colour to this?" And you can see from our faces that we are not complaining. We both know other ways we could have done things but neither of us want a refund. Life has been good and rich and we have friends and family that we love and have been loved ourselves in full measure. And Nigel pointed out that some of the deepest feelings of joy come from surviving and fighting the tough times, with your loved ones back-to-back if necessary. I concur.

And I think both of us feel quite warmly towards the enthusiastic (I wouldn't put it as strong as 'cocky' though some might) 18-year-olds that we were. Life was there to be lived in a place that wasn't your hometown, full of interesting people from other hometowns, fuelled by actual student grants, cheap Robinson's beer, and the exotic prospect if a burger joint across the road that actually used charcoal. Or the Plaza curry house (if you know, you know)

I feel that we were privileged that mobile phones hadn't been invented (payphone in the hall:  "Patrick, it's your mum!"). If we wanted to find out what someone thought of us we did have to meet them face to face, rather than unlock a screen. The only record of the previous night would not be photos but our own rather alcohol-degraded recollections (and common agreement later of whether a good time had been had or not). 

But don't worry, children of our own, this is not a 'golden age' piece and you will be able to do the same thing in a few more decades. Meet up and don't keep the score, but tell the story of your life with people who were there in it when you started out. The story is your own, and maybe it is the old quote about life being "What happens while you're making other plans". And things that you thought at the time were bad turn out to be good. And difficulties are not terminal, they are formative. Don't sweat the small stuff, and remember the key adage "You would be much less bothered what people thought of you if you realised how infrequently they did it"

It's your life, go out and live it, love it and own it, in all its happenstance and serendipity. We both did, and still do