This is a photo that was taken by a professional hired to capture a reunion of all my Mom’s siblings and her for the first time in a number of years. My Sister and I were special ‘guests’ as we were visiting family…
The first time I met my extended family was when I was six year old, this was 1972 and my Mom, Sister and I took a trip back ‘home’ to Scotland. My Sister had some memories of Scotland (and my Grandparents) so it was special for her and my Mom to see these people they hadn’t seen in oh..7 years give or take.
Me? Well to me they were strangers for the most part (to the Kid me anyway), except for my Grandmother (Omma) who wrote me regularly and had sent me pictures.
The trip over to Scotland for this six year old was a nightmare. It was 8 hours of flying time but a nice couple of hours (sarcasm) labor to change planes in Montreal. My purse and my sisters carry on case were stolen while we weren’t looking. (nice)
The very nice Steward on the plane for the overseas leg, who I remember as being very kind took me to see the cockpit which I recall was ‘upstairs’ (747), sit on the Captain’s lap and ‘steer’ the plane and then get a nice shiny pair of wings as I was now a ‘Pilot’, me and some dumb boy that kept shoving and wanting his turn. Wow changed days that they once let people into the cockpit eh?
That kindly Steward then fed me milk and then a glass of lemon juice (sense anything about to happen?) along with some rather gross airplane food. I went with my Sister back into the smoking section (another relic from the past) to watch the movie. I grew up with smoking parents, while my Mom quit when I was a kid my Dad smoked all his life.
Throw all that in with some pre-landing turbulence and whooops!!! I filled me up one of those pukey bags…I was doing well using the bag and I was feeling better but after we landed, when my Mom was helping me unbuckle …SURPRISE WHOOOPS!! I hurled again, this time alllll down the front of my nice dress.
My Grandfather (Abba) met us in Prestwick airport and was to drive us back to Aberdeen. This was in those days a good 8 hour drive.
Following along here… 8 + hour flight + couple of hours layover + milk, airplane + food + lemonaid + 8 hour car trip = YES more barking at the ants (thanks Honey, since you told me that euphemism for barfing I use it all the time!) My poor Abba had to keep pulling over for me to yack out the door on the curb. I left chunks along many a curbside in the land of the Scots…
We arrived safely at my Grandparents home in Nigg and I was feeling quite a bit better (and empty) by then. I saw the door open and my Omma walking out the door. She was so excited to see us. I took off from the car at a run and leaped into her arms wrapping both my arms and legs around her in an excited hug. This was my Grandmother! Finally!! I had one I could see and touch, just like my friends had back home in Canada!
I think back now at my poor little Omma who had this obviously STINKING child in her arms, and she hugged and kissed me like I smelled of roses. Now that’s love..