What were your grandparents like?

Mine were wonderful but had lived very hard lives and didn’t live as long as they should have done.

Both grandparents on my paternal side died before I was born, my grandfather on the maternal side died when I was six, I remember he always wore a three piece suit with immaculately cleaned shoes and a hat, I can’t remember anything else. My grandmother on my mothers side died when I was eleven, I remember that she had a sewing machine and would make our clothes, she had been a seamstress all her working life, working in a corset factory for many years, and she made my mum’s beautiful wedding dress, bridesmaids dresses, and her own outfit for the wedding.
Whenever she visited she brought myself and my sister a comic and sone sweets, but she wasn’t a cuddly affectionate granny, I remember her more as a rather stern faced grandmother who believed children should be seen and not heard. To be honest I was more than a little scared of her.

i didn't know my maternal grandfather. He died in WW1. In WW2, my maternal grandmother's house was destroyed in the blitz and for my first 4 years she lived with us. I adored her. She is my still my style icon, my hero who faced life's vicissitudes, and for her they were many, with strength and endurance. Of Irish immigranr stock, she grew up in poverty but was stylish, self possessed, a feminist.

The saying of hers that rings down our family is .'I do not follow fashion, I set it' Said when someone expressed shock when she went out for the evening wearing not a hat, but what we now call a fascinator.

My paternal grandparents, I liked less. My paternal grandmother did not like my mother - and I was too like my mother. My father was one of 11 children and my grandmother always put her daughters children first. My grandfather loved us all, but was very distant. When we visited for the afternoon, he would not appear until tea time. However, he loved Murray mints and always had a jar with them in, in a cupboard and our biggest treat (at a time of sweet rationing) was when he went to his cupboard, got out the jar and gave us each a sweet.

My maternal grandparents died when I was five. They lived in South Africa. My mother came to the UK after the war to be with my dad , they met during the war.
My paternal grandfather died when I was 6 months so never knew him . My dad said he wasn’t a very nice man .
My paternal granny lived with us from when I was 12. She knitted her own stockings and was always making me dolls clothes and knitting us jumpers. She did the gardening and helped mum with my sister , collecting her from school etc . She is 8 years younger than me and 4 years younger than my brother.. She died aged 94 despite very high blood pressured and was always told she had a “bad heart “ I think my mum had quite a tricky time with her sometimes but cared for her when she was dying.

I still have lovely memories of my maternal grandparents.They lived close to us and we saw them alot, were a great influence on our lives.Both had left school at 13 and straight out to work, my grandfather into the local shipyard where he spent all of his working life, making and repairing ship's engines.My grandmother went into domestic service, cleaning wealthy people's houses before getting married and spent the rest of her life cleaning her own house, cooking and bringing up her family.She died at 76, an old woman before her time.My grandfather passed away peacefully in his sleep at 82.
I did not see my paternal grandmother very much, mostly because of distance and the fact my mother and her did not see eye to eye. She always sent us presents at birthdays and Christmas, and was by all accounts a formidable character.She died of pneumonia in her late 60s caused by her heavy smoking.
I hardly knew my paternal grandfather, as my grandmother and he had parted company when I was a toddler.I have only a very vague memory of him.He never contacted any of his children after he and my grandmother separated.

I was told my father’s parents died before I was born, in fact one didn’t die until I was a few years old but I never met them.
We lived next door to my mother’s parents and they were evil, there are no good memories at all.

I knew all four grandparents My maternal Nan did lots with me lots of childcare she was like a Mum (my poor mum was working full time) Nan died when Iwas in my early forties she lived with me for three years She had run a boarding house, my maternal grandad was lovely He worked in a builders office in our nearest city and died when I was 16 it broke my heart He used to take me out on a Saturday and taught me how to use a camera I was very close to them

My paternal grandparents although living nearby had about seven grandkids and as far as I know didn’t do any childcare I only saw them on Sunday visits My paternal grandad was a builder but I only knew him retired and in his garden with a pipe in his mouth all the time, he died when I was around 14/15 (of throat cancer) tall upright man with a full head of white hair
My paternal gran died when I was in my late thirties early forties I never knew her to work other than a housewife although I believe she had been a beatster when she was younger I think she led a very subdued shy retiring life mostly in the house I never knew her to go out anywhere at all

I asked my mother who is 93 and a great grandmother, about her grandparents, born in 1865-72. Her paternal grandfather was a fisherman in the north east of Scotland, and she met him only once, when he was near the end of his life. Although she now has dementia and Alzheimers, she still remembers him taking her by the hand and walking along the shore with her, aged about 4.
She doesn't remember much about her paternal grandmother, even though she came to live with the family for 5 years after her husband died.
Her maternal grandmother was widowed at the age of 25, with 3 daughters under 5. Once they grew up, she emigrated to Canada but came back to live with my mother's parents at the end of her life. My mother remembers her with great fondness, as an elegant, cultured and affectionate Granny.

My grandmothers always seemed to be in competition with each other! My paternal grandmother had been left widowed with three boys at the age of 36. She was immensely practical, smoked like a chimney, kept her cash under the carpet on the stairs, and always wore a hat indoors. She made chips in a proper chip pan on a gas stove. I was terrified of the noise it made!
My maternal grandmother was very musical, but also very deaf. I'm afraid we children were not very kind about it and laughed when she got things wrong. I regret that now of course.
My maternal grandfather was tall and patient. I remember arriving at their house for a visit and telling him proudly that I could count to 100. He let me sit on his knee and count and told me I was very clever at the end.
My grandparents came to live in our house for a while (don't know why) and I remember that they had an ornately carved wooden commode in their bedroom. Could do with one of those myself these days!
I don't think any of my grandparents engaged with me and my siblings in the way that I do with my grandchildren.

My step-grandfather used to sit us on his knee and play a game called "Pork and Beans" in which he would ask us questions and we would have to reply "Pork and Beans" to each one without laughing ..... anyone remember this game?

I remember all 4 grandparents, and have built up their background stories delving into their parents histories through Ancestry. Well it was my mother who set me off on this path, before she died, with a wish to know what part of Ireland her grandmother came from, that I found out Limerick and they were all very poor and Fenians she told me from what she remembered of some of her aunts and uncles. My mother had a French surname, so naturally I wanted to delve into that side. "Tell me about your paternal grandfather" I asked "he was heavily accented and had a goatee beard" is what she remembered. He also had a factory in London making garments to be precise he was a mantle manufacturer, according to the certificates I have, other than that where he emanated from seemed a mystery. Eventually through one of her cousins, I was to establish they came from Alsace. In the last few years, I found out from a distant cousin that side of the family were Jewish and I have 10% or thereabouts Ashkenazi Jewish DNA. They were all in the garment trade, a bit text book I suppose. I'm very sorry I found that out after my mum died, I think she'd have been rather in awe to know that her father was half Jewish, we always thought he was a protestant, he never went to mas with them on Sundays. On his deathbed my parents and grandmother persuaded him to become a catholic and got my grandmother's Priest to give him the last sacraments and a catholic burial. I think they were a bit out of order My husband often jokes don't get any ideas in doing that for me on my deathbed After the First WW, my grandparents were newly married, and although my granddad had an up and down relationship with his own father because he was supposed to go into the family business, but ran away in his teens and joined the navy instead, he saw the world. He had a lot of adventures and mishaps too, his boat was torpedoed during the war, he was lucky to survive. However, being skint Great grandfather saved my grandparents bacon in 1919 he let them live in half of one of the houses he owned in North London, he had 4 apparently they were those Victorian types with steps up to the door and several floors. They were there until the early 1930s, when they got enough money together to put a deposit on a house in Bromley when it was still Kent and not Greater London. Both granddad's maternal side came from Kent as did grandma's paternal side, from around Wrotham, which I always mispronounced as Rotham much to my mum's annoyance, "it's Rootham" she would continually tell me I have early memories of going to the Bromley house before they moved to the Sussex coast, when we went to stay with them in the summer holidays. My mother told me, great grandfather even paid for his grandchildren to go to private school, and all was well in life until the Irish side of the family put pressure on my grandmother in insisting they came out of that school and went to a catholic one where mum told me "then all my troubles began!" didn't stop her from sending us to a catholic school though I have lovey memories of that granddad walking along the beach hand in hand, him telling me all about the sea and marine life. He was the grandparent who I had the shortest time with, he was to die when I was about 8, but I actually think he was my favourite. I remember my grandmother mainly for her steamed puddings and homemade lemonade. She died when I was about 12.

My paternal grandfather came from Malta he left home as a young man and went to live in France, he was a photographer, and worked for the man who was to become his father in law, who was a horrible person I'm told which is where he met my grandmother who was also working for him. That great grandfather was in partnership with his brother-in-law and had photographic studios in London and Marseilles. When the war broke out granddad went into the British army. Like my other grandparents they married in 1919 and came back to live in London. My father was their firstborn and I believe they lived in a cramped flat above the studio where he worked and I'm told my father and siblings as children had to keep quiet during his working hours. Eventually they got together some money to buy a house in Wimbledon, not the posh end near the tennis unfortunately, I remember going to that house as a child it had a long garden and granddad grew all his own vegetables and kept rabbits who I thought were pets but weren't I also remember eating what could be described as "foreign food" back then, everything was laced with lots of garlic and Olive oil, not unusual now but then it was. Granddad used to shout a lot, apparently he was quite deaf due to all the noise from being in the trenches, but he wasn't angry just loud, also I didn't always understand him because he was quite heavily accented, I'm sorry I was a little scared of him because my mother told me he was a really good person. My grandmother on the other had was quite hoity toity and I remember her telling me off for wearing jeans to a family gathering when I was about 13, she was entrenched in a mindset of what she deemed appropriate behaviour. Her family had had money once, but her father was feckless during his years in France and was prone to visiting casinos he gambled it all away. In his later years he just went and stayed with his grown up children and sponged off them, my aunt told me this. My grandmother's mother died when she was young and she and her sister were dumped on his mother whilst he took off to France with her brothers, they were put in a boarding school there and when they grew up married French women and didn't come back to England. Also one of her daughters, my aunt married my lovely uncle who was here during the war part of the Free French and they went back after the war and I have cousins in France.

Like everyone else who has delved into their family histories just wish I'd had more conversations with all of them now.

I only knew my maternal grandparents. My mother was widowed in 1942 and didn't get on at all with my father's parents, so we lost touch with them when I was a baby. My Grandfather, aged 56, died when I was six, he had suffered from gas, and was mildly shell shocked from WW1. I do remember him but only just, as a kind man who was always pleased to.see me. My granny I remember much better as she,died when I was eleven She was very active, riding her bike, swimming in the river, punting, walking miles, well, it seemed like miles to me! A good cook and an excellent maker of poppy ladies! Unfortunately high blood pressure and a dicky heart killed her at 61.

My paternal grandparents were a big part of my life, I spent every day of all my school holidays with them, from age 5 to 15. They lived in a small Somerset village, my Dad and his brothers were raised there. Gramph worked at local Airbase, kept a very large garden and orchard. Nan never had to buy veggies or fruit. She also kept hens and sold eggs to the old marketing board. I learnt most of my cooking from her, she also taught me to knit.
My maternal Nan lived in the same town as us, lived there all her life. She raised 5 children alone, my mum the eldest. She was the one who looked after us in term time if needed and my brother in holidays if mum had to work during the day. Worked part time and did some sewing work at home, sheepskin gloves for local business.

My maternal grandparents met when they were in service. My Grampi had been in WW1 and talked about it a lot. After retirement from being an insurance man, he worked briefly at Wadworths Brewery in Devizes, checking the loads going out. He was a keen gardener besides being a churchwarden and a governor at the local primary school. He did the pools and had premium bonds and would give us a share of any winnings. Gran was always at home although she did belong to Mothers' Union and attended church regularly. In later life, she always seemed to have headaches and needed to rest in the afternoon. She wasn't keen on my father at first because he was a "foreigner" - he was from Ulster!

I have only the vaguest memory of his father and no memory of my paternal grandmother, sadly, as both died when I was young. I imagine they would have been more fun because my father was.

I only knew my maternal grandmother as the others had l all died before I was born. She was very tiny and seemed very old to me. She came to live with us when I was 11. She was very religious and would spend a portion of the morning and afternoon reading her bible in her room. She only left the house to go to Church. She loved the visits from the Jehovah’s witnesses so that she could put them right!

I only remember my grandfather ..on my dad's side...he died when I was 4 years old..my grandfater,,on my mums side died in the 1920's,,,just after coming home from ww1., my granny...his wife died when I was 10 months, so I don't remember her and my dad's mum died 8 years before I was born. I do remember my step grandad...he was a lovely man who had all the time in the world for us,

Redcar

All my grandparents had died by the time I was 10. I can just remember my maternal grandmother but she was very ill and died when I was 5. Her husband was a lovely grandpa and my brother and I used to go and listen to “journey into space” on the radio in his room. He and granny lived with us.
My paternal granny died when my dad was a teenager. My paternal grandfather was in hospital a lot and I can remember going with my mum to visit him. I wasn’t allowed into the ward so had to sit in the corridor! I can still remember the hospital smell!

I used to listen to Journey into Space while sitting on Grandad's knee in front of the fireplace - unless Grandma came in and told him off. She didn't believe in showing affection for children. He was lovely (died when I was 12), she was not. Made good seedy cake though and junket. She was like Hyacinth Bucket, but without her good nature or social graces...
She died when I was 20 but none in the family mourned her. She left a lot of bitterness behind.

My other Grandad died when I was about 4. I remember being allowed to sit on the empty foot rest of his wheelchair. Grannie, who lived to be 90, played the piano with gusto even with gnarled, arthritic fingers and was a tiny, wizened figure all the 23 years I knew her. Bent over with age, she was no more than 4' 6" tall, having shrunk from 4' 10". My mother thought her terribly common as she occasionally drank her tea out of the saucer, to cool it. I liked the cakes and trifle she made for us and the Yorkshire puds she saved from Sunday dinner to give us, with a teaspoon of apricot jam in the hollow.

Oh gosh, Terribull, your hoity toity Grandmother sounds like mine! A female wearing trousers, let alone Jeans - Shocking! I bet she used one of those tiny dustpan and brush sets to remove crumbs from the tablecloth as well. I found your post fascinating.

I knew all four of my grandparents. My paternal grandparents had a smallholding where my Dad and his brothers grew up. My Granny was born in a tiny village where her father was the blacksmith. When Grandad retired from the farm they moved into the nearest town and Grandad got a job as gardener at the local High school. Grandad had a bypass operation of some kind which they said would give him another 10 years of life. He managed 13 more years and died in his late 70s. My Granny lived to be 83.
My maternal grandparents lived in the same town where my Grandad was a tailor/postman. He spent his summers playing bowls and was in the local team.
My Nana was in service before they married. They had 6 children, 3 boys and 3 girls my mother was the 4th child.
Sadly my Nana succumbed to dementia and died when I was 16. My Grandad came to live with us for the last couple of years of his life, he died when he was 90.
I have really happy memories of them all.

My maternal grandmother was one of the most important people in my life. I adored her and I know she loved me too. She had 12 grandchildren and we all felt special to her and loved. She died 25 years ago and I miss her everyday.

My maternal grandmother was a gypsy ( the term she used) and had healing powers; before the NHS she delivered all the local babies (rural area) and locals came to her to be dosed up with herbs. The only thing she ever dosed me with was what she described as "elderberry pop" which caused me and some rowdy cousins to fall asleep for several hours in the middle of the day.. I think we'd exhausted her patience.

She was a very beautiful woman and my mother looked just like her. GF married GM just before he set off to fight in WW1. A year or so later he returned from France, injured, and found Granny heavily pregnant. She called it a mystery pregnancy, known to midwives. He agreed to keep the mystery and raise it, on condition she pretended it was his child,. Which they did by waiting nine months to register the (home) birth of a "newborn" with him as father. Only by then she was pregnant again so they had to fake the second child's birth registration too. That's how two of my aunts spent their entire lives a year older than their birth certificates. They had seven children.

Many years later, my widowed mother moved us back to the area she'd been born in and became a social worker. Back then there were a lot of itinerant gypsies in that rural area. SS had received a report of a sick baby at a gypsy site and she was sent to investigate. As she drove into their camp everyone disappeared into the vans and the doors slammed shut. Nobody would open up or speak. Just as she was about to give up, a door opened and an old crone called " I can see who you are. Look, she's the spit of Florence G.". Mum, amazed, said " That is my mother's name".
" Why didn't you say, you're one of us. They let her in.

The baby was indeed in need of care ( born with missing eye, floppy and somewhat neglected ) but they refused to let Mum take them to a doctor. At the time, I had a summer job working at a cottage hospital , old fever hospital in the middle of no-where. Mum persuaded the gypsies to come there with the baby and said " This here is my own daughter butterand jam , you can trust her. She will look after baby". I was 16 but the size of a puny 12 yr old and Matron had already decided I was useless at manhandling grown adults; so this would give me something to do. She agreed to admit the baby, and they handed her over. Baby and I were in isolation; the other inmates were mostly frail elderly and baby had worms, diarrhoea and headlice. Once cleaned up and bottle feeding , she perked up. When she was better Mum took her back to the parents. They still declined to give the baby's name. Now they said she hadn't got one.

Mum asked to see their other children. Five were produced (all had two eyes) and she said "So, for my records, you have six children altogether ". The Dad replied " No, just five. We don't count baby any more. She might not be the same one we left at that place. We lost her; when lost children return it can be a changeling.". My mother said " But (ONE EYED) baby still looks exactly the same" and he replied "That's what changelings can do.".

When mum repeated this to me in fits of unprofessional laughter , she added "You might be a changeling, I've often wondered that. " I said sarkily " Is that why you changed my name right after registering my birth with a different one? and she replied . "Oddly enough, that was Granny's idea . The moment she met you she said "This is not her
right name, you must call her something else.". and they did.

My registered name is a perfectly ordinary classic girls name; so is the one I've always been known by. It's just that the name I'm known by is not on my birth certificate, passport, medical record etc. A lifetime bureaucratic/ gypsy curse.

I never knew my biological paternal grandfather as he died when my dad was 7 My grandmother was a fighter and a strong woman but loving. She eventually remarried a lovely man who was a great grandad.

My maternal grandmother was very strict and, I would say, not approachable. My grandad was the opposite and would recite poems and stories to his grandchildren.

My Grandad on my mother’s side was very wealthy and a real old fashioned Yorkshireman - father of 10 and the definite head of the household. I liked him but he died when I was 9 so I didn’t know him well. Grandma was very motherly, just as well with all those children.
My Dad’s Dad loved classical music and played it all the time. Grandma was quiet and placid , she had hair the same as mine, curly. She didn’t get on with my Mum very well .

I was lucky I knew all 4 of my Grandparents. All lived beyond 80 yrs with my Dad's Dad passing at 99 yrs so I have pictures of my children with them.

All 4 interesting character's my mother's parents both amazing, my Grandad was a drummer boy on the Kyber Pass, later a builder and such a kind sweetheart of a man. My Nan came from Lancashire, she was very funny and nothing got past her. Her father disappeared when she was young so her mother struggled to bring up 5 children, this made her very able . As a young teenager she went into "Service" to lovely people who kept her on after she married and had 2 children. They went on to have 7 children and move to the South of England, as Granddad came from the Isle of Wight, the did struggle at times financially, as a builder rubbish weather no pay.

My Dad's parents, so different my Grandad originally born in Northern Ireland, family migrated to the South of England. He too was also a soldier in WW1 he had a incredible background, an Old Contemptable, then as a Ship Wright worked on War ships in the local Naval Dockyard, he was quite a personality right up until he died. Where as my Grandmother was adored by her 8 children but by the time she got to over 10 grandchildren she lost interest in us, I was the 13th one.
But, they all made a massive impact on mine, my sister and my cousins lives.

One grandmother died when I was four. I have a vague memory of her but no more than that.

My other grandparents were around into my teens and early twenties. As a self-centred and rather stroppy kid I didn't interact with them enough, but I know now that they all had very interesting pasts and wish I'd had the time and inclination to talk with them about their younger lives.

My maternal grandfather died when my mother was an infant, so obviously I never knew him.

I adored my maternal grandmother and was less fond of Grannie (Daddy's mother) because she unfortunately could not quite hide that she did not really approve of the way my mother ran her house. However, Grannie was always kind to me and both my grandmothers taught me useful things such as sewing.

I was very fond of Grandpa, as he was rather like his elder son, my father.

Unfortunately, Grandpa died when I was twelve, my maternal grandmother the following year, and Grannie the year after that.

I missed them all very badly, and would have liked to have had them until I was nearly grown up and could have asked them what being young just before the first world war had been like.