Grannies' grannies

I too was born when my Mum was 39 although my Dad was only 32! Mum's father died before I was born and her Mum lived with us for the last year of her life and died when I was almost 4. I can remember taking her a cup of 'tea' from my toy tea-set and being told I wasn't to go in - assume she had just died but that is all I remember of her.
My Dad's Mum was completely scatty - a very simple woman -who had been brought up by her much older sister who lived at the Tower of London with her soldier husband. How she managed to raise 4 children, 3 of whom went to university which in the 20/30's was quite unusual, especially for girls, I can't imagine! I haven't a clue what she did, if anything, before she married my Grandad, but their first child was born 5 months after they were married and my Grandad was only just 20. I can remember visiting them - she always sat on an upright chair and fed me sweets and gooey cakes and told me not to fiddle with my hair or suck my thumb (and I hated going upstairs to the loo as they had a stuffed alligator on the wall which frightened the living daylights out of me; she died when I was 18 having spent the last months of her life in similar circumstances to yours Absenta, in a horrible geriatric ward with about 20 beds on each side.
My paternal Grandad died at the ripe old age of 90 having started out life as a boot boy aged 13 'downstairs' in a large house in London, then educated himself at night school and ended up as Secretary of a well known firm of stockbrokers in the City. He was a lovely old man and used to play 'shops' with me over a low hedge in his garden. When he became infirm his 2 daughters and other son wanted to put him in a home, but my mother insisted that he come to live with her and my Dad - he nearly drove her mad, but I think he appreciated what she did for him. We are all much more hands-on than that generation - my Mum was very hands on even though she was in her late 60's when she first became a Granny and she puts me to shame - she was so energetic with my children.

I remember my paternal grandmother only my maternal grandmother died before I was born,my grandmother was a tall straight backed woman who was just under 6ft tall,so she was a formidable sight with her tied around day dress and thick stocking's,she ran a boarding house for workmen and she did this as my grandfather and her did not live together after he came back from serving as a merchant seaman,I never got to find out the reason for this,my dad was the 4th child of nine and every one was born weighing over 9lbs at birth the heaviest was 12lbs 8ozs.Nana worked all day in her house keeping it clean and cooking for her guest's she made them packed lunch's and a evening meal and did their washing,I can remember every Sunday going and helping to do the Sunday roast and picking the fresh mint for the lamb and peeling mountain's of potato's.She was loving and caring but oh so scary at time's when the men who stayed over indulged in drink,she never relied on anyone to provide for her and brought up her family the same way with good honest principle's.When nana was 75 she went on to remarry and moved to Shrewsbury,when widowed again aged 82,she went on holiday with mum and dad and met a widower and married again at 84,sadly she died when 96 but she found companionship in the later stages of her life.

My paternal grandmother travelled to New Zealand on her own in 1930, went to visit her sisters who had been there since 1912, for some reason she sailed to Australia first and then continued to New Zealand. I was always amazed that she was so adventurous, she went to Egypt too, it was quite unusual for a married woman from a small northern town to travel. I loved to hear her stories but she was not well liked by her daughters or DILs, never found out why, my mother would just wrinkle her nose and change the subject. I don't believe my grandfather travelled more than 15-20 miles from home in his life.

Wow – there are only four comments and it's all fascinating. Why haven't we done this before?

Both my grandmothers and grandfathers died before I was born, so I grew up without grandparents. My role model was my Mum, who was a wonderful grandma to both my sons. My father died before my sons were born.

I had never met my maternal grandmother (or so I thought). My mother was brought up by her grandmother, all the while thinking that she was her mother. The lady who was actually my great-grandmother died when my mother was 17, just as she was joining the army in 1942. This was when my mother discovered who her 'real' mother was, and as was so very common in those days, it was who she had believed was her eldest sister. 'Auntie Jean' didn't play the part of grandmother to me, therefore. It was never discussed. However, my paternal grandma was so lovely. She lived in the village just round the corner from where we lived. She was tiny and her house was in a terrace of similar houses, with the lavatory outside 'up the yard' - you didn't say you were going to the lavatory, you said 'I'm going up the yard'! There was a black 'range' in the living room on either side of which were 2 wooden armchairs - one for Grandad and one for Grandma. A chenille cloth always adorned the dining table and was removed at mealtimes so that the tablecloth could go on. I remember eating bread and dripping at Grandma's - lovely! Grandad was known to be mean with money, and would never allow handkerchiefs to be bought. He insisted on old rags to be used for this purpose and I can remember them drying on a string which hung along the mantlepiece! After he died, no-one could find his bank book - until someone had the bright idea of looking up the chimney! Grandma eventually moved into sheltered housing where she was really contented. She died aged 98 after being in hospital for a short while. All the while she remained alert. She was a tremendously strong-natured person. When things were difficult for me as a teenager, she was my rock. I loved her very much.

I remember all 4 of my grandparents and a great grandmother! My paternal grandparents used to take me to visit my great gran as it was paternal grandad"s mother. She lived in Liverpool with my grandads brother and his family, I was taken in to see this ancient old lady (probably aout 80, not that old now!) she was always in bed and would give me hard sweets she kept UNDER HER PILLOW AND THEY WERE NOT WRAPPED!!!!! still makes me shudder thinking about them I would have been about 5 or 6 then and I remember being very excited as we went on the ferry, grandma would sit with me on the top but grandad said it was too cold and sat downstairs inside the boat. my other grandparents were cotton weavers from lancashire lovely but very religious and prim and proper (can"t imagine what they would think of us trendy grans now!! My dads mum was still alive when my 2 DDs were born and they remember her quite well although she did"nt go out much. I wonder why we are so much younger in attitude than our beloved grandparents, we even look younger any grans got any ideas on that?

My darling Grandma was my best friend and she supported me through all the trying times I had with my father. She was delightfully blunt and had a very down to earth attitude about life. Was great at putting up with the youngsters in her life and never raised an eye brow at all the goings on of the 1960s. She wore a long body encasing corset everyday of her life and would not have left her bedroom let alone the house without having it on. I loved her very much and often think fondly of her.

Grandmaagain - how lucky you were to have remembered all 4 of your grandparents. Just lovely stories of your memories.

I remember vaguely my paternal great grandma but didn't know about my paternal grandparents until my father died and we found the half brother he didn't know he had. I discovered my pat. grandfather was Australian and dad was the result of a liaison in WW1. My pat. grandma died at 21 having had dad and then married someone who'd been keen on her for ages and they had another son. After she died her husband and son went to live with his side of the family and dad was brought up by his grandparents who worked their socks off to give him a good education. His grandfather died when dad was 14 and so it was up to grandma. Luckily a wealthy cousin took him under her wing and he was forever grateful to her [she was delightful] and his grandma for all they did.

I remember my maternal grandparents very well. Mum and I visited them most days and it was BORING. I watched the wrestling with 'Bompa' whilst mum nattered to 'Nana' and sometimes made card houses. I occasionally stayed the night as well. They were kind but didn't go out of their way to play. Unlike dad, mum came from quite a wealthy family but the money dwindled when Bompa became very ill and medication and doctors had to be paid for. In the end Nana ran a very successful B & B. Nana was very domineering but when I was older I stood up to her and she said I was the rudest little girl she'd ever come across. But we got on alright and both said our piece. Dad and Bompa got on well playing chess together especially at Christmas. Grandparents had a different role in those days I think?

My paternal Grandparents were Welsh, born in the Victorian era and in their early 70s when I was born. Granny was tiny and formidable. I can always remember her wearing either suede boots with zips up the front or check slippers with huge red or blue pom poms. She always wore a crossover floral pinny and lisle stockings. No outing was complete without her hat pinned firmly in place with a huge hatpin. A wicker trolley was a must for shopping trips.
Grandad was stone deaf (or at least pretended to be). Although he had served his apprenticeship as a Baker he ended up working for the Railway for most of his life. He still enjoyed baking though and I can remember how wonderful his cakes and scones tasted.

We lived with my maternal Grandparents. Grandad was especially fond of wine women and song and he and my Nin had a very volatile relationship even at that late stage in their lives. Grandad taught me to read and write and tell the time before I went to school. He wore a woollen bobble hat in bed and ate mushroom soup or raw eggs in milk for breakfast.

I loved my Nin the best, she always wore Revlon Intimate perfume and Aristoc nylons. In her day she had been quite a looker as had Grandad. One of my most treasured memories is of her taking me to our local park after school and pushing me on a swing higher and higher it felt like I was flying. Afterwards there was always a trip to the dairy for a homemade icecream cornet.

She also bought me my first pair of nylons Aristoc of course.

Sadly both my Grandads died within 12 months of one another in the mid 1960s. Granny died in 1972 and Nin outlived them all passing away in 1985 age 91.

My father was 40 when I was born - he was the last of 9 children - his father dying in 1904 when my father was just 6 months old - his eldest brother was already in his twenties. His mother died in 1944 - the year I was born and she was in her eighties so I obviously never knew either of them. My maternal grandfather died as well the year I was born although my nan was around till my 23rd year - gosh how I missed out on memories such as the ones you girls have posted. Mr B's great grandmother died when she was 100 1/2 and we have a photo of her with our son which made her his great great grandmother! My grandchildren have a two great grans and one great grandad.

In an earlier post we were discussing our choice of names and I said I'd opted for Gran. That's because my own (maternal) Gran was the fun one who took me to the circus, to wonderful Christmas parties and, best of all, my first trip to the theatre to see Peter Pan. Her husband died when I was 5 and my only memory of him was his last illness, sitting on his bed telling him about my first exciting days at school. (Paternal) Granny was always the little old lady who wore a floral crossover pinny and never seemed to go anywhere.That Grandad was never particularly interested in us though kind enough. They were the first in the family to have tv and we had to be so quiet on Saturday evening as our visits coincided with the football results and the checking of the football coupon. Oddly enough it was these paternal grandparents who had had the more glamorous life experience when younger - managing jute mills in India and living the life of the Raj with their servants and Mah Jongg parties while Gran and Grandad at home ran the corner shop. They all had happy endings - no care homes or long-drawn out illnesses and with children, grandchildren and greatgrandchildren closeby.

What a great thread! My maternal grandparents were Welsh. I think they came to England just before the second World War. Granch had been a miner and his body was covered in blue scars where coal dust had embedded into cuts and grazes underground. He wasn't very tall, but held himself very upright. I was the first born of their first born. When I passed the 11plus, I remember Granch taking me to a lunch time session at the British Legion and proudly (and rather squiffily) introducing me to his friends and telling them I would be going to grammar school. Granch died just a few weeks before my wedding. Nana insisted on attending the wedding in the lovely taupe coloured costume she and Granch had chosen together, and insisted that he wouldn't want her to wear black. Bless her.

Nana was amazing. She adored all of her 18 grandchildren. I remember being sent to fetch her false teeth from her pinny pocket at tea-time. She used to hold a large loaf of crusty bread in her left arm, high up against her bosum and slice immaculately thin slices towards her body with a wicked knife. Does anyone remember the dreadful railway crash at Wealdstone in 1952? Lots of fatalities.It was the train Nana always used to catch to work. My Mum heard about it on the wireless, I was told 'no school today' and we set off by bus to Nana's house. No phones in those days. We sat in the front seat upstairs on the 189 bus from South Harrow to Wealdstone. My Mum cried all the way there. I was 5. We arrived in Wealdstone to find Nana safe and well at home, she'd been ill in the night and taken her first ever day 'off sick'. A miracle. My Mum died when I was 13. Nana took me under her wing and I spent a lot of time with her.

I didn't see so much of my paternal grandparents. Unusually, and quite scandalously for the time, they were divorced. This Nana lived in London in a very smart house. She always bought presents for Christmas and birthdays that were way too old for us. I remember her giving me a 1000 piece jigsaw of a picture of Beefeaters for my 5th or 6th birthday. It was years before I could do it. Just after the Coronation in 1953, she gave me a large book bound in royal blue leather, with the most glorious colour plates of the Coronation. I wish I still had that book, probably worth a bit!

My paternal grandfather was a rather remote figure. We always thought he was posh...don't know why. He lived in a fairly big house with a wonderful garden that he tended himself. A lady and her daughter lived with him, and as kids, we understood this lady was Grandad's housekeeper. She was always referred to as Mrs W. but in reality, was probably a girl-friend. But in those days, it couldn't be said out loud. She made wonderful meringues in the shape of swans!

How brilliant to have the opportunity to recall these memories! I could go on and on. Thank you for the thread!

wonderful thread! everybodies memories are so diverse and very interesting.thank you all! excitedly waiting for more

My grandmothers were first cousins and when I was small they shared a house, so I called them 'Grandma Upstairs' and 'Grandma Downstairs'. My mother's mother ran away with my grandfather in the early 1900s - they were both married to other people at the time. They went and lived in Egypt for a while and then in Italy, France and finally Sicily, where my mother grew up. I only discovered their rather racy past recently when doing family history research.
When I was about 12 this grandma came to live with us, which was rather difficult as she loved to be the centre of attention and was very self-willed. She and I had several clashes during my teenage years, and never really got on, though before she came to live with us I used to enjoy staying with her in her upstairs bedsit. My paternal grandma died when I was about 13, and I didn't feel I knew her very well. I didn't have the close relationship with my grandmothers (both grandfathers died before I was born) that my children had with theirs, or that (I hope) mine feel they have with me.

I am so enjoying this thread! I have actually posted about my great-gran. I think that these memories are absolutely vital.
Sometimes historians want to tell us that things were a certain way - our own oral history is a way of knowing that it might have been different. My grandmother & her sisters had basic education, but thought themselves lucky to have had that, as it gave them some power over their own lives, and they all enabled the next generation to have a much better education.
Their mother could not read or write, and when the dreaded yellow telegram came during WW1, she knew what it must mean, but had to send to the school for one of her children to come home & read the sad news. What an illustration of the problems of illiteracy!
My other great-gran was a contemporary of Flora (Lark Rise) Thompson, from a nearby part of the country. Mrs. Thompson wrote beautifully about her life, but it was from my great-gran that I felt its authenticity.

My two oldest GC's remember their Greatgran quite well and were old enough to attend her funeral 3 years ago. My greatgran lived until I was 4 and, although I don't have memories of her, I do have photographs and, through my mum, all sorts of hilarious stories about her. I've passed these stories on to my GC's so they do have that link to their maternal great great great gran. 11 year-old GD recently took studio photo into school of the large family of her great great great grandparents on my dad's side. I posted on another thread that we recently found a photo of my grandparents when they were 19 and 21. Only then did I see that my son is the image of my grandfather - to the extent that 2 year-old GS thought it it was his uncle!

My paternal grandparents lived in Fife, in a big old house overlooking the Firth of Tay and Dundee beyond. Grandpa was the kindest man imaginable. We were the best of friends and I missed him so much when he died when I was seven. 'Wee' Granny was very tiny, but had a dominating personality. I was quite scared of her. She was strict about Sunday observance and didn't like us playing cards on 'the Sabbath'. But when I told her I didn't think God would mind, she relented. There was a huge garden full of every kind of soft fruit plus apples, pears and plums. We would pick raspberries when we went to stay - and eat them with gusto. Granny was a real Victorian matriarch, keeping tabs on the far-flung extended family - she was one of nine children although she herself had only two. She could knit for Scotland and her speciality was socks. She successfully taught me to turn a heel. Once when we had to knit socks in our needlework class at school, she pretty much finished them off for me. I wear her engagement ring with the date 1904 in it.
My English granny lived round the corner from us in Ayrshire where she lived for around sixty years without losing her accent. She had lost her mother when her sister was born and the two of them were brought up by a governess. Granny did go to school and to art school - she was an accomplished artist and did lovely embroidery, even with an arthritic hand. She played carols on the piano at Christmas when the extended family gathered for tea in her house. During the depression, when my grandfather (whom I never knew) lost his family business, she held things together, keeping chickens and growing vegetables in her huge back garden. Poor Granny - I was a lost cause when it came to sewing and embroidery, but she did her best. To this day, I can come out in a cold sweat at the sight of needle and thread! She was very proud of her ancestry which was 'landed gentry' - seven generations of hereditary rectors who were also the local squires. Sadly, any family money had long since gone by the time I arrived on the scene. I have some of her embroidery and a few pencil drawings that I treasure greatly.
When Wee Granny came to stay with us, the two of them would put their hats on, get on a bus and spend the afternoon in Largs, probably having a bracing walk on the prom and taking refreshment at one of the many cafés. They got on surprisingly well together.

So nice that some can recall great grandparents, my paternal grandfather died when I was 2 and he was 84.
My DILs grandfather served in WW1 and my DIL is just in her thirties.

My grandparents were in their 40's when I was born. My grandmother died when I was 32 and my grandfather about 12/14 years later. Although I lived abroad most of my childhood they were both beloved people and wonderful grandparents. My father was not a good father and particularly hard on me.He adored my younger brother. So to give me a break I quite often stayed with them. I was thoroughly spoilt eating what I like, having Sugar Puffs for breakfast and going to the afternoon pictures with my G/mother - we both liked Stewart Granger and Dirk Bogarde. Favourite lunch time outings were fish cakes at the ABC,Wonder Cake at Lyons and sometimes afternoon tea at Fullers. For my 13th birthday I was taken to the Ritz for afternoon tea wearing my best frock for the occasion. They were comfortably off and wanted me to know how to behave in any given social occasion. By the time we returned for good I was 15 years old and miles behind in my education after 19 schools. So they paid for me to go to boarding school to be 'crammed' and it worked. My G/father was loved by everyone he was one of nature's gents - I adored him, he was the positive male influence in my life. Except for my mother's brother, who is now in his 80's they have all died now. I still remember my G/parents so well I can even remember how they spoke - I used to say when I heard the Queen Mother speak, if I closed my eyes, I could hear my G/mother. They were the same generation after all. I'm about to have my 2nd granddaughter in November and I hope I can be as good a granny as mine were.

This is just the best thread so far! You have all reminded me of long-forgotten memories of my grandparents. I remember two of my great grandparents and all four of my grandparents. My love of dogs comes from happy times spent playing with my grandmother's fox terrier, and my passion for gardening from my grandfather, who used to allow me to help push the heavy roller across his precious lawn (I realise now he was doing the pushing). When contemplating whether a course of action is the right thing to do, I still think what my grandmother would have said about it, 30 years on since she died. I have learned to be less judgemental by remembering how my grandmother reacted to relationship problems or family troubles, and in current hard times, I remember the lovely meals that were produced for us children on a very tight budget - all cooked with love. My grandparents took me on train rides, to pantomimes, and the seaside, and instilled in me the importance of children being allowed to be children.

My mothere was one of the youngest of a lasrge familyso I tended to think of my aunt as my granny [she was 20 years older than my mum]. for some reason I always thought a photo that she kept on her sideboard was her, but it was in fact her mother. I've now got a copy of it. I don't think I ever met her but having grown up with the photo I feel as if i did. This thread has made me realise that I have no photos of my dad's parents at all. He was fifty when I was born and, although I have a photo of me with his mother I have no memory of her [she looked very old in the photo. I'm going to contact my cousing in an attempt to see a photo of her when she was younger as it's bothering me now that I have no mental image of her. My grandchildren have no living grandparents on their fathers side, and I've told my daughter to have photos of them around so the boys will grow up with a mental picture of them. This is a lovely thread. The S.O's grandfather was atrain driver who used to tell him to be at a certain spot at a certain time so he could throw a Mars Bar to him. How 'Railway Children' is that! Perhaps a book should be written with everyone's memories of their grandparents, oral history being most important imo. Did anyone ever read Melvyn Bragg's book, Speak for England?

..without spelling errors; oops