Simon Ricketts

I'll explain about the photo later. 

It's just over ten years since I joined Twitter. At first, I just didn't get it and I tweeted half-heartedly before pretty much giving up. But then a friend of mine encouraged me to give it a proper go so I did and after only a few days and interactions, I was hooked. 

It was cowboy country back then; no one really knew what they were doing but the people who looked like they did were social media magnets. Really, it was like joining sixth form all over again, for better and worse. In fact, in some respects it was more like primary school: "Will you be my friend?"

Over time, though. I found my place in Twitter and do you know what? I loved it. So many people on there were interesting and intelligent and made me laugh. They felt like proper friends and then, after a few 'tweet ups', I realised that they actually were. Man, I miss those days on Twitter. (And it's where I met the Minx!)

I don't know when I first encountered Simon Ricketts. It was pretty early on, though. He'd written an astoundingly brave yet drily humorous blog post about how he was going to be put into a medical coma from which he might not wake up, and it whizzed around Twitter. (I'm not sure that things were yet "going viral".)

A while after that, I was invited to a tweet up in London and that was when I first met him. To be honest, back then it wasn't odd to find that someone was just the same in real life as they were on Twitter. If anything, he was even more like himself. Does that make sense? Intelligent, articulate, funny, generous, humble. I adored and admired him straightaway. 

He started going out with my friend Andrea, so I had a bit more of a connection with him (a little bit more) but for the most part, like everyone else, I just enjoyed him on Twitter. He was an absolute master of the medium, not in any manipulative sense but simply by being himself: he was a natural.

But he was ill, seriously ill. The Minx and I met up with him and Andrea, and our friend Shelagh in Edinburgh last year, when he was getting really poorly and yet you wouldn't have known it: still funny, kind, smart, modest, and generous. Truly, he was an amazing man.

When he passed away, I wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. I know that because when I was out running, he'd pop up in my thoughts time and again. And then, a few weeks ago, Andrea invited us to his memorial service, which was today,  at St Brides, just off Fleet Street. 

Years ago, my Twitter friend Laura Sparling likened Twitter to a pub and it was oddly reminiscent of that when the Minx and I walked into a coffee shop on Fleet Street, this morning. There's Gary! There's Charlotte! And Soula! All those Twitter friends. (Actually, it was a bit overwhelming, and we took our coffees and found somewhere to sit around the back of St Brides until the service started.)

And what a service it was. For a start, St Brides is a beautiful place, with a wonderful, warm Rector, and a simply stunning choir. The first address was from Hugo Rifkind, who was so much more charming and self-effacing than I had expected. And funny, too: he set the whole service off on a brilliant course, which everyone else sustained. 

Amongst the hymns and amazing performances by the choir - 'The Wonder Of You', 'Sunshine On Leith', and 'In My Life' - there were two readings of posts from Simon's blog, which were entirely apposite, bringing him right there, into the church. There were so many chest-tightening moments. 

The second address was by Katharine Viner, who was absolutely perfect. There was a compassion and love in her soft Yorkshire accent that brought tears to my eyes. Her description of Simon and her anecdotes about him were both tender and true. And funny; time and again she had us all laughing, recounting the jokes and joy that Simon has brought to the Guardian's office. 

You know, I've been to a lot of church services but that's the first one that I didn't want to end. 

And after that, we all went to the pub, and it was just how Laura imagined it: all those amazing characters dotted about and chatting and laughing together. The Minx and I had a wonderful time, meeting up with old acquaintance and meeting people we'd only ever known online, who all turned out to be just as lovely as we thought they'd be. 

You'll understand, I hope, that at no point did I want to get my camera out.

Which is why today's photo came from the Public Service Broadcasting gig that we went to in the evening at the Natural History Museum. It was great, as it happens, but an odd digestif to the day. 

I'm left feeling sad, of course, and yet there was something so joyous about today's service and the afternoon at the pub, over which Simon's spirit shone, that it's hard not to feel happier for having known him. I'd like to be a bit more like him.

****
No scales
Reading: 'How Art Made Pop And Pop Became Art' by Mike Roberts