Welcome to Volume 13 of Clutter Tales, a series where we tell the stories of our lives through our clutter. Today, I’ve got a tale of an old airline ticket from 1973 that I found recently while decluttering my night table drawers. It’s not just any old airline ticket, though. This flight changed the entire path of my life.

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I’m reaching the end of my scheduled Clutter Tales guest posts. Thanks so much to all the wonderful bloggers who shared their stories with us. I have loved reading and sharing them.

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An airline ticket to the future

Over the years, I’ve developed a bad habit of shoving various pieces of paper in my night table drawer. During a recent decluttering session, I found this airline ticket stub.

BOAC flight BOA607Y from Manchester to Toronto, departing Manchester at 12:15 on May 26, 1973. My ticket was a 50% fare and cost £46.55 (around $80 CDN at today’s exchange rate).  

So what’s the big deal and why did I keep that ticket for almost 50 years?

This wasn’t just a 2-week vacation. It was much bigger than that. Along with my parents, two of my three sisters, and my grandmother, I was leaving England for good. We were emigrating to Canada to join my aunt, uncle and two cousins who had done the same several years earlier.

Memories of that day

Good-bye England

May 26, 1973. It was a day that changed my life forever. I was not quite nine years old at the time. It might be almost 50 years ago, but I still have some vivid memories of that day.

First, I remember leaving the house in Rawtenstall, Lancashire where I had lived my entire life. My aunt and uncle bought our old house, so I did return several years later, but it wasn’t “our house” anymore.

Then, I remember saying good-bye to our beloved Dachshund Fritz, and naively thinking I’d see him again. He stayed in our house with my aunt, uncle and cousins, but he died about six months after we left for Canada.

Next, I recall arriving at Manchester airport, excited to fly on a plane for the very first time. I had been to the airport many times to drop off and pick up my grandmother when she went to visit my aunt in Canada. I would watch the planes in wonder. Now I was actually going to fly on one!

We almost missed our flight that day. My dad—who could never resist a bargain—spent too long in the duty-free shop trying to find the best deal on cigarettes and alcohol. As they announced last call for our flight, and then started paging us by name, my sisters and I were yelling “Dad! Hurry up! They’re leaving without us!”

We did make it to the plane on time, but our flight was delayed because an extra piece of baggage had found its way on to the plane. My sisters and I stayed on the plane with my grandmother while my parents went and identified our 20+ pieces of luggage. Six people emigrating had a lot of stuff!

I don’t recall a lot about the flight itself, other than my dad hating the meal they served—some sort of lamb stew if I remember correctly. To me, it wasn’t that bad but, to hear my dad, you’d swear they had served him a plateful of poison. He vowed never to fly BOAC (now British Airways) again, and he never did!

And hello Canada!

After we landed in Toronto, my sisters and I sat for what felt like an ETERNITY while they processed our immigration paperwork. We were greeted at the airport by my aunt and uncle, and my cousin, her husband and daughter.

My first memory of Canada is the drive from Toronto to Cambridge—in a torrential rainstorm. Even growing up in the north of England where it rains all the time, I had never seen rain like that. I was in the back of my cousin’s car with her daughter Claire—a rambunctious three-year-old who spent the entire drive climbing all over me and my sister.

Finally, we arrived in Cambridge, and the next chapter of my life began.

What if it never happened?

When I think about it, it was a very brave move for my parents, in their 40s, to uproot our family and move to a different country—a country they had only heard about from my grandmother and my aunt and uncle.  

These days, I can’t imagine living anywhere else but I often wonder how different my life would be today if we had stayed in England. Would I have gone to university? Would I work in financial services, or a completely different career? Who would I have married? Where would I live? How many children would I have?

I’ve always believed that things work out as they are supposed to, so I guess I’ll never know. But I can wonder…

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I hope you enjoyed this installment of Clutter Tales. If you’d like to write a guest post for Clutter Tales, please get in touch. I’d love to give you the opportunity to properly thank your clutter by sharing its story too!

Where did you travel on your first flight? Tell us about it below.