Memories from a photo

No one seemed to be sad, or expressing any sadness, as our family gathered at Prestwick airport that sunny June day. No doubt, however, our parents were anxious about what was about to happen.

It was an exciting time in our lives as we were about to leave Scotland and begin a journey to Canada. The uncertainty of this adventure didn’t seem to phase us kids. I told my friends that I was going to Canada School, as if it was a school in some town down the road. Relatives in Canada had sent us newspapers from where they lived and us kids were more interested in the strips of chewing gum that fell from the pages than the stories and ads. We knew it could get hot in Canada so everyone had to have new clothes. None of us, except for Daddy, had been in a plane before.

Joan and Russell, long-time family friends, and their girls Gillian and Caroline, were there to give us a great sendoff. Joan was armed with a yellow duster so, she said, we could see her waving as we took off in the plane. It wasn’t time to leave, yet, so we stood and talked (and ran around the place) until someone suggested a picture be taken to mark the occasion.

Hamish, in his new striped T-shirt and silky blue short pants – same as what I was wearing – stood straight, arms at his side, as Mummy held baby Murray in her arms, and Daddy placed his hands on Shirley’s and my shoulders. Shirley’s thick blonde hair was slightly tousled, but she looked smart in her new blue blazer. Rosemary, small and skinny as she was then, stood in front. Both girls had light blue striped dresses. There we stood, all in new outfits for the big event. Everyone squinting as we looked toward the camera and waited for Russell to say "cheese" before the shutter clicked.

Our father’s hands – one on Shirley’s right shoulder, and the other on my right shoulder – reminded me once again that he cared about us in a way I hadn’t thought of before. Firm and lovingly, his calm assurance was evident that day. Here he was, a man of 39, taking his family of five young children thousands of miles to a new land. It was 1965, a time of new beginnings. Our parents knew what they were doing, but us kids hadn’t a clue that we were going to spend 10 hours in a huge plane and land in some faraway country where we would live the rest of our lives.

"Cheese!"

Click!

© 2007 DavidzWritings.blogspot.com