I finally made it to Canada near the end of August 1962. My husband had gone ahead in June to look for a job and make plans for us to join him. At that time I had a two year old and a five month old baby. Our plan was for me to stay with my parents until things settled and then I would fly out to join him. Of course the process took much longer than we anticipated.
My parents were very patient but my Dad was not used to babies and had no idea about not waking Kirsty up after she had been put down to sleep. He bumbled about without any attention to the baby’s needs and often woke her up. My mother, anticipating her need for a break from children, made arrangements with a teenager from the village to take the kids for a walk after lunch. Then she settled on the sofa with her book for a little bit of peace and quiet. I know she bemoaned the finger marks all over the furniture but we all did our best to cope.
The mail came at lunch time and we eagerly anticipated news of Stephen’s progress. He had a number of contacts and followed them up, but it was a frustrating process. One thing we did know there were jobs, it was just a matter of making contacts. There was no point system for emigrants in those days nor any kind of restriction on entering the country. Eventually he landed a job in a place called Cobourg on the shores of Lake Ontario and a temporary place to live…… we were off!
People have been emigrating to Canada from Scotland for a long time. Part of my father’s family emigrated to British Colombia in the early nineteenth century and I visited my relatives there in 1957.There are records and letters of people visiting back and forwards over the years. I certainly was not leaving in the desperate circumstances of the many thousands who had gone before me. It was, however, an irrevocable step, and although we said we would return if we did not like it, we knew this was highly unlikely.
We left from Prestwick Airport and my mother and a friend came to see us off. I had a bunch of white heather tucked into the pram blanket a diaper bag and some toys for Birgit .All sorts of luggage was on its way too in the hold.
As we went down the ramp towards the plane I feel badly now that I did not give much thought to my poor mother! She was well aware of how young and inexperienced I was but had restrained herself from making any kind of fuss as we said goodbye. Not only her eldest child but two new grandchildren were off to a strange and alien environment on the other side of the world!!
My anxiety was focused on how to manage the journey with two small children without alienating all the other passengers. This was my usual British preoccupation with polite behavior at all costs! As it happened the journey was surprisingly easy. The baby was hung in a skycot from the luggage rack and slept nearly all the way. When she cried to be fed a very helpful young woman in the next seat brought her down to be fed and changed. I think the sound of the plane engine put her straight back to sleep! I had brought a bag of small new toys for Birgit and we read some new books as well. Luckily I did not have to deal with any other passenger’s dismay at my children’s noise! At last we arrived and I could see Stephen waiting in the arrival hall! I was so glad to see him…..but it was so hot and when we got to the parking lot and the car, a large bulbous Ford, it did not have air conditioning.
All the way along the 401 Highway we drove with the windows open and the sound of the cicadas reverberating from the roadside. There was so much to catch up on and I felt a deep sense of unreality. The children slept all the way. I don’t think Stephen recognized the baby. She had been tiny when he left and now she was quite the armful!!
We arrived at the Motel in Cobourg where we were to stay for a short while before moving into more permanent quarters. The owners gave me a great welcome and we were shown upstairs in this old house to two rooms and a bathroom. There was no air conditioning and no refrigerator and it was hotter than I ever remember experiencing before! The owners were French Canadian and I never did find out how they landed up in Cobourg. They were kind and although our communication was limited I think they sympathized with my difficulties! We soon worked out a way to survive. I bought daily supplies at a nearby store and we went out to dinner every evening. The couple were market gardeners and gave me fruit and vegetables every day. Their grounds were beautiful and I spent most days outside.
Most of the time I had this bemused sense of unreality. Of all things I started to try to toilet train my toddler. I still remember her cries of.”I want to get down!!!” She was remarkably patient in the circumstances .At night we would hear the trains go by on their way to Toronto. One of the loneliest sounds, it seemed to emphasize the immense distances of our new country.
While I was struggling with the heat and keeping the children amused Stephen was trying to work at his new job. In Scotland he had been attached to a mental hospital in the process of developing an outpatients department for its Children’s Unit. It was the hope of people in Cobourg to do something similar as an outshoot from Ontario Hospital Cobourg, a local mental hospital. He was very busy trying to understand how Ontario worked, and we really needed to get settled so he could concentrate on his job.
After a week or so we moved again into what I called “The Little Pink House”. It was in the grounds of another motel but this one was on the edge of Lake Ontario. It was air conditioned, had a working kitchen and a refrigerator……..we were all set!
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