I was gently and willingly reunited with moments of time past that have periodically surfaced over the years since. The trigger for this re-emergence of impacts from my lived experience was an invitation received to meet up with some of my former high school year class friends on Friday 23rd February 2018 in Scotland. Most of the school friends I had not seen for some 40 years. I took an overnight flight and on arrival in London caught a five and a half hour train to Scotland crammed with excited individuals going to witness an historic rugby match between Scotland and England the following day. The atmosphere on the train was electric and so positive that I did not mind having to stand in the corridor for the entire journey, as there were no available seats. I was coming home.
In the 40- year period since I last had seen some of my school friends, life had physically altered those assembled; additional lines on our faces etched by the sculptor time and lived experience whose impact was carefully drawn, the added ridges on our abdomens comforting us in middle age and transforming the slim tight contours of our youth as I recall. Changing hair colour for those still in possession of it, quietly looking at each other whilst greeting one another, trying to remember how we once looked all that time ago. Seeking recognisable traits facilitating recall and a gradual drawing closer towards that time which meant so much to us, a critical part of our collective identities. The way one smiles, talks, nicknames used, how we interacted, how we presented ourselves, all brought back gradually the reason why we made the effort to make the time to travel to this spot beside the River Esk in the beautiful area of Lasswade in Midlothian Scotland. I was so happy to be here.
The emerging remnants of recall drew from my well of memory why those individuals present were so important to me, occupying a space in my life usually reserved for loved family members. They were family. They replaced my biological family, as I had been ejected by them at three months of age and placed in the care of the State. Since then I have created my own family, individuals who I love and who matter deeply to me. Some of those family members were present tonight. At that time 40 years ago, I did not have the words, the confidence, the ability to express how I felt. I knew within me but was ill equipped to express it for fear of being misunderstood and rejected further. It is different now. Time and lived life have taught me well.
Memories of events, circumstances preceding and following such events, other school friends, teachers, the location of the school, the surrounding countryside, my walks from school to home beside the River which whispered to me as I accompanied it for part of its journey, sports, school subjects, all brought back to life in this gathering of family members because they shared such memories, they were there-with me.
I took the opportunity on the Saturday and Sunday to walk some of the routes I had traversed as a child in the countryside. My legs had a mind of their own and the rest of the body followed. It was as if the legs knew where to go of their own accord. Visiting the cemetery where my foster parents lie and paying my respects as they tried to care for me for eight years throughout my high school years. The cemetery is perched beside the old railway line and I walked along there as I did so many times in my youth. The old sleepers and timber have now been removed, the former railway lines appear to have been broadened and are now covered with cement. There are no gaps in the route where you had to climb over to continue your journey with some risk involved. The bridge has been rebuilt straddling the ravine below where the river flows, and the view downwards partly obscured by high metal fencing putting safety before eye-catching wonder. Part of the atmosphere, the nuance of the area has been removed as a result but new possibilities of discovery have arisen. I saw young parents with children in their prams travelling along the former railway lines. I saw youngsters on bicycles on the pathways. I witnessed elders walking with their dogs and not slipping on the former slimy sleepers. This could not have happened in my youth. I have the advantage of time knowing what was there before and possessing the privileged knowledge and capacity to contrast the past with the present.
As time passes I recognise that beauty comes in diverse guises. When chronologically young there is a startling, invigorating, eruptive beauty that is so apparent, so effortlessly confrontational, it cannot be ignored. It is simply beauty and it is a wonder to behold. As one becomes older, beauty reshapes itself. It becomes more complicated, multi-layered, more nuanced, takes longer to behold, one has to search longer to see it. It demands thought, insists on depth, rests on insight and lived experience, flows on compassion, humility and humanity. To savour beauty, you must have lived life experience and drawn lessons from that life as beauty is fuelled by it. I saw beauty in my school friends on Friday 23rd February 2018. I embraced love in their company. I glimpsed at the lived lives and their impact, the successes, the loves, the challenges, the disappointments, the struggles, the desires. It was clear from the sculptor time’s beautiful handiwork on their faces and bodies.
I accept you as you are as you do me. In such company I will always be welcome and feel safe. Nothing is unsaid. I cannot thank you enough. I love you.