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My maternal grandparents were Master and Matron of what was now called the Institution locally, but I was actually born in the Workhouse! My Dad was at War, so my Mum lived with her parents at that time. Unfortunately my grandmother died when I was only 2, but I went on to spend an annual holiday with my grandfather after he moved on from that job.

My father was adopted in India, and so my paternal grandmother was not his birth mother. She led a busy life in the days of the Raj as she was married to a Chief Magistrate and she actually won an MBE for her work during the terrible floods in Calcutta. After her husband died she returned to England to live, where her adoptive son married my mum and they moved in with her at the end of the War together with me. We had the top two storeys of the house and gran had the bottom one, so I spent a lot of time with her and we were very close. She spoiled me rotten and paid for me to go to a couple of private schools before taking the 11+ and going on to Grammar School. She died just before I married.

My nieces have done a lot of research into the past and have managed to trace the details of what happened to my Dad's birth parents, which led to his adoption.

I should add that I have discovered so much about all my grandparents since researching the family history which has helped me to build up stories of their lives and helped me to feel that I really knew them.

grandma had a long garden loved going and picking ruhbarb to eat raw or peas to pod, eating either of them transports me back to being 8 years old

My paternal grandparents died before I was born.
Sadly I don't really remember my maternal grandma but I must have loved her because I was apparently always eager to visit her every day; she died when I was four.
I remember my maternal grandpa as an old gentleman sitting in a leather armchair wearing a collarless shirt, a black waistcoat and with a fob watch which I was allowed to look at.

I do remember going to see Grandma and Grandpa's little house after new people had moved in and being most indignant that they had made themselves very much at home in my Granny's house.

I'd spend hours at the weekend gardening with my granddad.

As an adult, every time I smell fresh tomatoes growing the memories flood back of the two of us in his greenhouse tending to the plants, I was like his shadow as a little girl following him around the garden trying to help and I loved every minute.

I was too small to remember my granddads when they died.
One 'Grandma' used to take me on holiday to Colwyn Bay to stay at her sisters. I can remember having tea with the thinnest sliced bread with butter. A real treat to EAT in bed.
My other 'Grandma', although she had her own home and a little money was a very careful Yorkshire woman. Instead of a white table cloth, she used sheets of newspaper to cover the table. (the best cloths were in the drawer of the dresser only to be used for special occasions) I had to do her shopping at the weekend, exactly the same each week and call in at the library to change her books. No pocket money, but it saved my lazy Mum for having to care for her !!!!!!

My memory of my Dear Nana and Papa is LOVE, i felt i was loved and adored and i certainly loved and adored them both. I spent every morning of the summer walking on the beach with my Darling Papa, He loved to watch the horses running on the sand at 7am, we would watch for hours.I even remember my Darling Nana wrapping me in a large tartan blanket and walking the street with me tied to her chest as i was teething and would not allow anyone else to comfort me, her blue chiffon headscarf had a hole where it tied under her chin as i always chewed on it. Oh how i miss them both.

My dad's dad died soon after returning from the first world war - untreated post traumatic stress led to pneumonia. His wife, my maternal grandmother, had a tough life and was a tough old biddie, but she retained her gentility to the very end. My mum's dad died when I was 4; the only memory I have of him is when he was in bed, but there was a real feeling of love in the room. My Gran, his wife, came to live with us when I was 10, and she's the one I have most memories of. I shared a bedroom with her for a while and she liked to read in bed until midnight. I couldn't sleep with the light on, so my abiding memory is of burying my head in the pillow, praying she would finish reading soon! As I was a good little girl, I never told anyone - I'm sure she would have been mortified if she had known, she was such a lovely lady.

Absolutely no first hand knowledge as all four had died before I was born. Just a few stories told by my parents

I didn't know my grandparents on my fathers side as they died before I was born. However they left a lot of memorabilia, so I felt I new them a little - I would have loved to have met them!

my grandparents were your typical northern stock, they worked in cotton mills with very loud looms where you had to lip read to converse, my gran wore a cross over pinny and grey hair with a bun , i never saw her with anything but a bun but she must have had long grey hair

Lost mine so long ago there are but a vague memory

My maternal grandparents came to look after me while my Mum spent nearly a month in hospital following my sister's birth by Ceasarian section. My Grandad was a Victorian gentleman complete with moustache, waistcoat and watch chain, but he was surprisingly gentle and understanding whenever I got upset at my Mum's long absence. My Grandma was a great beauty when young with glorious hair worn in multiple curled waves. But when I knew her she was short and round and always wore a 'pinny' and introduced us grandchildren to digestive biscuits layered with jam. I loved them dearly.

I have good memories of my maternal grandfather when I was sent to stay with granny and Grandpa and we went for a drive in his Armstrong -Siddley at around 15 mph I think he was known as the Surrey crawler! Life was certainly slower paced then.He only survived WW1thanks to his quick thinking Batman who rescued him as his horse had fallen on him.So I guess I was lucky to have known him for a short while.

I still remember when i was 1-2 being carried by my Father's Dad rocking me to sleep, my far-thus memory

My granny was an adventurous soul. Only 4ft 10 she travelled a cross Europe on a train with her best friend to meet up with my grandad who was posted there. She used to take us up to London on the train. She walked so fast we struggled to keep up with her. She made the best cakes ever and always made us a special cake for our birthdays.

My grandmother had a wonderful button box which we were allowed to rummage through. My grandfather always wore a bow tie and if he thought nobody was watching he let me have a sip of his beer. I did not really like it then and I still do not like beer now!

My Granddad was a circus clown with my great uncle, they were called The Finch Brothers, they also did Punch and Judy shows. Together they toured the country and entertained all the children at the local Galas and Christmas parties. They were always great fun to be around. Unfortunately I was only 6 when he passed away.

Two Grannies

Back to Seaside Granny’s, piling sand and wet towels on the hall floor,
Splashing wet feet across her carpet
Dumping buckets and spades on the back step.
And then there is food – always food.
For she eats like a demon, this tiny bird-like Granny of mine.
Roast potatoes shining in china dishes,
Meat, meat, meat, glistening with fat.
Vegetables, sad and limp and dead and boiled
And boiled
And boiled.
And gravy, great seas of gravy
Brown beyond all reason.
And pudding, boiled and lumpy and bliss.
With custard, boiled and lumpy and bliss.
Bath now and bed, no arguing, my mother says.
I creep past the kitchen.
The kitchen where Grandad’s ghost lives.
Where his body lay.
Where it draped from the oven.
Chest on the tiles
Arms on the tiles
Legs on the tiles
Feet on the tiles
Head in the blessed gas with its promise of a new life.
For she nags like a demon, this tiny bird-like Granny of mine.

Fat London Granny hides in her basement,
The garden an air-raid shelter,
The scullery reeking of gas.
Cheese moulds green in the food safe and bright green greens bubble on the stove.
Beneath us the forbidden cellar
Cold, terrifying, dark, musty and echoing.
And irresistible.
Full of treasures
And mystery
And danger.
We play with the mangle – mind your fingers
We play with the knife-grinder – mind your fingers
We take our saved fingers up the stairs
Here is the street door and the room where I was born
And upstairs
Here is the bathroom with its dragon geyser
And upstairs
Here the lodger hides in her unlit room
Tasseled green velvet tablecloth and sewing machine.
Best behaviour here, nod and smile and touch nothing
And pray for escape.
And upstairs
Granny’s room where Dad was born and Grandad died
Clawing at the incontinent sheets.
And upstairs
The attic room where we sleep.
Be quiet now, go to sleep.
But we lean from the window, scanning the rooftops and the smoking chimneys,
Our Mary Poppins world.
A helter-skelter of a house.
Built higgledy-piggledy room upon room
Into the sky.
Our adventure.

My grandparent died before I was born, shame I never knew them

Ah, lots of memories. The overriding memory of my paternal grandparents is a feeling of warmth. They always had a sweetie and I think we got a bit spoiled when we were round!
We didn't see much of them as my parents moved away when we were small, which I think made visits much more significant and memorable. My gran had a big dark dresser and I remember always looking at the selection of ornaments (which I don't think varied from the time i was born til she passed away) including a few small black and white pictures, and topped off by a pair of victorian china fire dogs.

My grandparents lived in Berkshire and we lived in the Midlands so in that day and age (1940's/1950's)visiting them was quite an adventure in itself. Grampy was head gardener for Lady Sassoon but being very young myself I wasn't interested in gardening so didn't feel very connected to him. However, Gran was very loving and caring and what sticks in my mind most about her was the fact that she always had unsliced brown bread which she buttered before slicing. She always managed to get her slices quite thin and even using just a bread knife. How on earth did she manage that?!

Oh Tanith, thanks for your post- it made me well up at the mention of the snapdragons: my grandparents had an abundance (Well, so it seemed to me when I was tiny) growing in front of their bungalow and I used to love making the snapdragons open their mouths!
What a memory- and the sun was always shining in their garden, too! x

My family lived with my Nan until I was 6, while we waited for a house on our Estate to come up for rent.My parents and my brother were in one bedroom while I shared a bed with Nan in the other. There was no bathroom and an outside loo.
I remember her getting ready for bed by unlacing her pink corsets and the creak as she got in beside me. I felt so safe with her.

My Scottish granny & grandpa used to take me on memorable trips 'doon the watter', which involved a steam train from Glasgow to Helensburgh followed by a day trip on a boat round the islands and some time on the beach (weather permitting). In my memories the weather was always kind and I returned home with a stick of rock & a tiny crab in a jam jar or some seashells - absolutely priceless memories!