Leaving home and mother . . . . . October 19, 1962
Heathrow Airport suddenly appeared so small. Knowing she was standing down there somewhere, my father at her side, my much loved mother perhaps was looking skyward where the grey clouds soon enveloped every plane going and coming, but having no idea which one was taking her only daughter so far away. She already missed her own mother so dear to her, and must have wondered what on earth was I thinking, leaving her, father, brother, family, friends, home, and even country, even though I had been given her blessing, and she worked hard to help me in my dream to see America. The plan was to spend a year working and exploring America then going home to settle down. That of course didn't happen and this year I will have lived here for 61 years!
The airplane was El Al. The food was strange. Different, I recall lots of caraway seeds. Scared? Yes definitely as this was my first ever flight. Travel to date had been in cars belonging to friends with wealthy parents for Sunday picnics on Dartmoor; double-decker buses into town; the old Western Lady ferry across Tor Bay; day out motor coach trips to Cornwall or North Devon with maiden aunts; tiny row boats on herring fishing trips along the Torbay coastline; trains now and then for school trips to London followed by a boat up the River Thames in the rain to see where the Magna Carta was signed. Another major school trip was a memorable endless train ride north to Shakespeare country to visit Anne Hathaway’s Cottage, then swooning over a very young Albert Finney in an amazing production of 'Othello' at the Royal Stratford Theatre . . . . . . but never an airplane.
Coming into New York was exciting. It still is. Breaking through the late October cloud cover, seeing such a huge city from above in shades of dusty grey and misty blue, two thoughts came to mind. How does one ever find the way around a place so huge, and how does the pilot get this huge plane back on the ground! Of course only first time flyers feel that way. When you’ve done it once you know all the answers for ever more . . . . . . . . .
A tribute to my wonderful mother.
I "crossed the pond" home so many times to see her, and
she came to visit me many times in the ensuing years.
I miss her and think of her every day.
A special lady - Gladys Mary 1911 - 2003
I've shared this memoir with you before. Today I'm repeating myself
only because I have such a deep feeling for, and still miss, my
dear mother so very much. She was my rock, always there even
when I was so far away for all of my adult life. She made me who I
am. . . . . . . . . . . but I will never be as special as she was.
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Dear Mary, Thank you for this beautiful read. You and I were/are both blessed with wonderful parents. My Mum is still here, my Dad now gone half a year. You are so right - they made (much) of what we are.
ReplyDeleteI am currently reading Michelle Obama's "The Light We Carry", and just yesterday finished the chapter about her mother. Highly recommended!
I remember the first time I flew overseas.... I was 17 and totally confident about the decision to do a Gap Year in Israel. In fact I remember my mother being what I thought was over-anxious about my safety! But my grandchildren are now in their late teens and early 20s, and guess what! I am over-anxious about their safety, especially driving.
ReplyDeleteMy parents both lived to a good age, dad having achieved everything he wanted and was ready to pass. But mum was energetic, bright and very sociable still, and certainly wanted to play lots more bridge and go to more concerts. Then a member of the family (by marriage, not by blood) asked MY mother's doctor to "withdraw all her medical care, and ensure she dies quickly and painlessly".
Mum's care home put guards on mum's bedroom door to protect her from the so-called relative, but this otherwise healthy and beloved mother died 4 weeks later. I was beyond consolation and had heart surgery within a year of mum's death. We never get over the loss, do we?
What a beautiful photo...and memory...
ReplyDeleteLove, Titti
What a lovely photo. I still miss my dear mum, I wonder whether we ever realise how much they mean to us till later?
ReplyDeleteOh Mary - you look so much like your mother!
ReplyDeleteA really beautiful tribute to your mother Mary - belated blessings and flowers to you on USA Mother's Day🌹💐🌺🌸🌼
ReplyDeleteShe must have been special to release you to move to another country. I love her name. I once had a dear friend and also a dear aunt with the name of Gladys. The name always makes me smile.
ReplyDeleteThe anonymous was me, Marilyn
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful piece of writing, Mary!
ReplyDeleteI recognised Torquay, instantly, and indeed we only drove around there a few days ago when my son took me, ‘ the long way around’ after having coffee and a mooch at ‘ Plant World’, which you might well know…it’s on The St Marychurch Road, just out of Newton Abbot; it’s lovely as it overlooks The River Teign.
Like you, in my childhood, trips out were very local and either to Dartmoor or more often than not, to the beach…and of course we had quite a choice! Other than that, we made our own amusement either playing in Milber woods or swimming at Penn Inn Pool, where we were regular visitors.
Do you have any plans to visit Devon again?
It’s living up to its name right now, ‘Sunny Devon’ as we are having beautiful weather! 😁
Is this Sal from Newton Abbot? Please share who you are - you are showing up as unknown/anonymous as perhaps you don't have a Google a/c?
DeleteI swam at the Penn Inn pool too - probably in the mid-'50's! Yes, will be coming home later this year if all goes according to plan!
Thanks, Mary
What a beautiful tribute to your mother, and a lovely photo to have. My father was away in the army in '44 and I have no photos with my family from that period.
ReplyDelete