My maternal grandmother was born in 1877 in Burma. She was half German Jewish, half Indonesian. The 7th of 13.
She married my grandfather, an Irish engineer and became Roman Catholic.
I don't suppose she ever did paid work although her sewing machine was precious to her and I'm told she cried when in 1941 she had to escape from Rangoon to India when the Japanese invaded and had to leave without it.
Her husband and 2 elder daughters died but my DM, the youngest was married and living in England so eventually she came to live with her.
I never met her but she is buried in
the RC part of Kidderminster cemetery near where she had died in a
refugee camp in 1947.
My paternal GM was a New Zealand, farmer's wife. I stayed with her after my dad died when I was aged 6 or 7.
By then she was widowed and lived in
a cottage by the seaside. She
chopped firewood, grew vegetables,
and taught my sister and I how to
collect mussels, and cook them. She could make and bake on the range a batch of scones in minutes.
We "helped" her with ironing, collecting
eggs, running errands. She could be
quite strict but was fair. She enjoyed
painting.
She allowed me to look inside a
wooden trunk in her bedroom in
which she kept family photos. She
was the 7th of 8 but the last of the
girls and she missed her sisters very
much and talked about them to me.
Her own mother had come out to NZ
in the 1860s.
When we left NZ for England in 1958,
we waved goodbye to her from the
deck of our ship and never saw her again.