Who do you see when you look at me?

At the weekend I went to a school reunion – it’s been 30 years since we did our O levels (as they were in those days) and went our separate ways.

Of course some people never wandered far and most of us have one or two close friends we have tried to keep in contact with over the years.

The advent of Facebook has been a great way to keep in touch with a larger contingent and it was through Facebook that most of this reunion got organised.

Some of us last met at our 20 year reunion and so much seems to have happened since then, especially on a personal level for me…

…and yet we are all still very much the same people as we were all those years ago at school.

Each of us finds comfort in the groups we hung around with at school. Old cliques reform very quickly as we giggle and reminisce. There is nothing better than catching up with old friends who you shared an important part of your life with.

There are some people I don’t ever remember talking to at school so I struggle to think of what to say, I can’t recollect their names or faces, I smile politely instead. 

Talking to boys is especially a problem both then and now, I get tongue tied, tripping over my words. I don’t suppose I’ll ever really change.

And then I blurt out that my husband died and quickly wish I hadn’t but I kind of need people to know, it’s the biggest thing that has happened to me in the last ten years, it’s not pleasant to talk about and it kills the conversation. The conventional “I’m sorry” seems such a trivial thing to people say in return.

Then I over compensate, get a little louder and finally end up retreating to the dance floor lost in the 80s music – no I haven’t changed a bit since school.

However I’m told more than once I look happy and the truth is I really am.

The reunion isn’t totally as I expect it to be but nothing ever is.

I’ve worked out that as a would be writer and teller of stories I make so much up, whole conversations go on in my head that will never take place in real life because no one else knows the script except me!

Suddenly the music stops, the lights come back on and the night is over far too quickly. We agree we should meet more often, some will, some won’t. I wish I lived nearer sometimes and could join in the fun.

At the end I wonder what people think of me? What they thought of me all those years ago and if they think I’ve changed at all?

The next day photos appear on Facebook – happy smiling faces and there are one or two of me.

I like what I see very much and as my friends “like” my picture too I feel loved and know that’s all that matters in the end.

Has anyone ever written anything for you?

There was a saying often quoted to me as a child that 

“Sticks and stones may break my bones 

but words will never hurt me”

Thankfully we recognise all too well these days that some words can be very damaging. 

I have had plenty of things said to me in the past that on a bad day can still weigh my down and I can trace back a lot of my own insecurities to a few key spoken words and phrases which have left the deepest of scars.

I’ve been very aware over the past week how many other people out there have been stung by a misplaced and careless word too. Some of which I will admit have probably fallen from my own lips and I am truly sorry.

But I don’t really want to dwell on the bad, sad words any more than necessary, instead I want to delight in the happy words and compliments I have been given, especially recently.

It started two days ago when out of the blue I received a compliment on Twitter about my hair!

Without boasting I have to say that my hair has always been one of my best features, long, luxurious and now the colour comes from a bottle probably even more striking!

Now I’m the type of girl who gives compliments to strangers all the time when I meet them.

“I love your dress/coat/hair colour/shoes /nail varnish etc etc!”

But these are compliments from one girl to another and my kind words the other day were from a man I’d never met, just a follower of a friend and our paths crossed for the briefest of moments.

He just made a comment in a Tweet that my hair was AWESOME in capital letters just like that! WOW!

I don’t know how I’m supposed to react in these situations; I usually blush, get tongue tied and feel like I am fourteen again! My finger hovers precariously over the send button wondering if I should tweet back. 

However for once I just responded politely saying thank you while quietly smiling to myself. I am beginning to learn how to graciously accept kind words when they are given. It is something we all seem to need to learn.

But then yesterday I had a whole string of words written for me, actually an entire poem.

I have always, desperately wanted someone to write something for me, the nearest I got to Andrew writing anything was a shopping list of what we needed from B & Q!

My special poem is not a romantic love poem in the traditional sense. It is about my love for Andrew and the boys, words about loss, finding the strength to carry on, dry my tears and laugh again.

The man who wrote my poem for me also suffered an unexpected bereavement around the same time I did, because of this I know his kind words are written straight from the heart and are therefore extra special. I am truly flattered he took the time out to write this for me, I know it wasn't easy.

However it really doesn’t take much to make people feel loved. A poem is not always required and you are stuck for words to say; a smile, even the smallest compliment, a “like” on Facebook or “favourite” on Twitter will often do the trick and let people know you care.

But if perchance you do decide to write or speak just be sure you always use the kindest of words in all situations because words somehow last forever, buried deep and lasting long in our memories when all else is faded.

Kind words rescue us from the saddest days, make us bolder and somehow fortify us for what lies ahead.

Honestly I haven’t stopped smiling since I watched my poem appearing on the Twitter time line and in preparation for that day when my smile slowly begins to diminish I have printed out a copy ready to read those beautiful words once more and just smile! 

Or if I cry it will be those happy kind of tears, the ones that fall when you realise you are loved and someone out there really cares...