Favourite memories with your grandparents

* very young when mine passed away

Never knew any of mine, deceased.

My paternal grandfather died when dad was 20, grandmother lived overseas, I only met her when I was 15, so no real relationship. Additionally, she loathed my mother.
Maternal grandparents lived nearby, loathed my father, and were of “children should be seen, not heard” school, so ditto.
I have made a tremendous effort to build a relationship with my own grandchildren and hope I have succeeded.

I didn’t know any of my grandparents but I did have a great aunt. I always remember being taken with her to look at an empty house she was thinking of buying. There were some lillies in the garden that she liked and she had them out if the ground in a minute saying that they were too good for the house. They bloomed in her garden for years afterwards.

I only knew one. She was my dad's mum and lived in New Zealand. I lived there too until I was 10. My dad died when I was 5 so both she and my mum were grieving.

Born in 1882, she lived beside the sea in the South Island and I remember staying with her for weeks on end.
She taught us how to cook and to do household tasks. We went to the local school and played with the local children.

She liked womens' magazines and knitting. She painted pictures. She knew most people in the town who were probably related to us!

She was kind to us children but never indulged us. She could be stern if we were quarrelling. She and my mother did not get along well but I don't think I was aware of that at the time.

I loved when she brought out photos of her sisters who had died and told me about them and of her mother's voyage on a sailing ship from England to NZ in 1866.

My last memory is waving a handkerchief from the ship to those on the wharf as we sailed away to England. She died a couple of years after we had left. She must have been 80.

She had another son nearby who was a farmer and his children, my cousins, were much closer to her.

My paternal grandfather was a farm worker. My memories of them are largely a warm mix of animals and gardens. I vividly recall sitting on the ground in their garden picking and eating strawberries straight from the plants watched by my smiling grandmother. A very grubby and happy small child, maybe between 2 and 3. Their lives were actually very difficult, few amenities (no mains services other than water) and long days of hard work. Somehow the harshness passed me by, I loved the gas lamps and open fires. It all changed when my grandfather died, I was still in junior school, my grandmother was evicted from their tied cottage, re-housed by the council she never did get to grips with electricity and was scared of it until her death many years later.

My paternal grandparents lived in an upstairs flat. I used to visit when I was little and they fed me all my meals in bed if I wanted. Spoiled wasn't the word! I remember dancing around to Andy Stewart and The White Heather Club. No thoughts for the poor lady who lived underneath.

My maternal grandfather died before I was born and my maternal grandmother died just before my fifth birthday. She had given birth to a lot of babies, not all of whom survived into childhood. My mother was one of the youngest and I was the youngest of the grandchildren. I reckon she had had enough grandchildren by her advanced age and so wasn't very involved in my life. I do recall visiting her fairly often – she lived with my youngest aunt – and she had the most beautiful silky skin. I wear her wedding ring and have a clock that I think was one of her wedding presents.

I recall my Dutch grandparents more clearly. As a young child in the 1950s, I was immensely impressed with their tiny refrigerator that could produce ice cubes for my fruit drinks. My grandmother was a woman of calm and peacefulness – she never let her sons play with guns, although some of them used the real thing during World War 2. She would start to tell me something about her day in English and then get all excited and ramble off into Dutch. I never realised how much I must have absorbed until many years later.

My grandfather almost chain smoked cigars. He never quite managed to speak fluent English but was always understandable. He called the kitchen, the kitchy and would say, "Helup yourseluf" if you wanted something to drink and would described listening to music on the "harpischord". A sweet, kind, loveable couple at ease with each other and their family. I can still visualise them sitting in their armchairs.

My paternal grandparents seemed very old, as my Dad was 40 when I was born. Grandad was a cabinet maker and we spent hours in his shed nailing bits of wood together. Grandma looked very stern, but I remember her doing the Charleston on the Lino around the carpet square in the living room!
I didn’t know Mum’s father - her DM had re-married before I was born, but I was very close to her. She bought my grammar school uniforms, paid for me to go on a school cruise to Russia and bought my wedding dress. I went to Evensong with her most Sunday evenings before I got married. She died just a year before my Mum, 1991 and 1992.

I knew both sets of grandparents and two great grandmas.

Many lovely precious memories.

I remember going to work with my paternal grandfather twice a month on Saturday mornings to a handbag shop in Carnaby St (he was an accountant) the smells of leather and adhesive, going to Galt’s Toyshop, going for lunch in the pub on the corner (I used to have a ham sandwich, but wasn’t allowed mustard which grandfather had)

So many memories of maternal great grandma, she taught me to play the piano, her house was three doors down from my maternal grandparents.

My paternal grandmother met all of our children, my maternal grandmother didn’t have that opportunity, nor any of my other grandparents.

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My maternal gran was very talented and I remember long relaxing days sewing baking cooking with her as her favourite music filled her home. She was very religious and once gave me meat on a Friday. As that was a fast day then she was devastated at this very simple mistake. I’ve never forgotten her reaction to that. My grandad loved animals and I can remember him always being busy outside in the back garden feeding the birds.

My paternal grandparents were very quiet. I remember going to their home and as I was climbing the stairs to their flat I can remember the feeling of pure joy at the thought of seeing them. .
We’d sit at the fire reading. Gran her people’s friends magazine grandad his paper and me a book that they’d looked out for me. I can still smell the coal from the fire hear it crackling and if I close my eyes I can see the layout of that small room and feel the peace. Very simple pleasure that to this day are my favourite pastimes.

What a beautiful thread.

I forgot to add that Gran’s husband was a miner and sometimes, he’d take me to feed the pit ponies. After an underground accident he worked in the pit baths - for years, we used Palmolive soap stamped PHB (pit head baths) that he’d ’relocated’!

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My maternal grandfather died in WW1. My maternal grandmother's house was destroyed in the blitz and for my first 4 years she live with us, then moved back to her own house. I loved her deeply, she was on the same wave length as me, which my parents, much as they loved me, weren't.

I had several long spells in hospital, in London, when my parents lived in Carlisle and after the first one, when I came out I spent a week living with her, just the two of us and I remember it as being one of the happiest weeks of my childhood. After that I always insisted that any long hospital stay should be followed by spending a week with her.

My paternal granparents were very different. I found my grandfather quite remote. He was an army officer, rising through the ranks and an eminent catholic layman, so he was out of the house a lot, and in his study a lot when in and usually only apppeared towards the end of each visit.My paternal grandmother did not like my mother, who was pretty and vivaceous and went to the opera and ballet and loved nice clothes, and that carried over to me, as I was thought to be too much like my mother, although why I do not know, but i was opinionated (nothing has changed) and I had a perfectly normal teenage interest in clothes and how I looked.

I don’t remember a lot about my grandmother - the only GP still living when I was young. I don’t think she liked me much - I was a tomboy and she didn’t approve, and told my mother so, often! She was my mother’s step mother and it was obvious to me from an early age that my mother always came second to her own daughters. When I was old enough to make the decision for myself, I went nowhere near her. My children don’t really remember much about their grandparents - we were always too far from home (out of the country sometimes) to see them often and then they were gone. My only grandchild and I have a wonderful relationship. DH and I made sure he had lots of good loving and learning experiences with us. I’m sure at sometime in the future he will recall them fondly.

My own DC were so lucky. DH's parents were young and fit . DMiL died only last year aged 98. The boys' holidays were spent by the seaside "helping" at their guest house. Later when DGP bought a dilapidated farmhouse in rural France we all stayed with them, DD even attending the French village school.

My DM was a bit older but a wonderful raconteur and could tell them tales of her extraordinary life.

I adore my 7 DGC. I have too little time with them but it is always quality time

Granniesunite

My maternal gran was very talented and I remember long relaxing days sewing baking cooking with her as her favourite music filled her home. She was very religious and once gave me meat on a Friday. As that was a fast day then she was devastated at this very simple mistake. I’ve never forgotten her reaction to that. My grandad loved animals and I can remember him always being busy outside in the back garden feeding the birds.

My paternal grandparents were very quiet. I remember going to their home and as I was climbing the stairs to their flat I can remember the feeling of pure joy at the thought of seeing them. .
We’d sit at the fire reading. Gran her people’s friends magazine grandad his paper and me a book that they’d looked out for me. I can still smell the coal from the fire hear it crackling and if I close my eyes I can see the layout of that small room and feel the peace. Very simple pleasure that to this day are my favourite pastimes.

What a beautiful thread.

Thats a lovely memory.

My memories are mainly tastes and smells in my grandparents houses.
Maternal gp’s garden with the taste of the raspberries they grew. Jars and jars of marmalade being made and rock cakes baked. The house was quite dark and I didn’t like staying overnight. Scary! Going with grandma to get her pension and her buying me sweets and a comic. Grandad died when I was 7 but I remember sitting on his lap trying to draw with a trick rubber pencil.

Paternal gp’s were so kind and loving. The smell of her dinner cooking, grandads pipe tobacco and the smell of a stack of newspapers in the’lean-to’ sitting in the sun.
I liked staying with them because my cousins lived nearby. When I was poorly, I slept in their bedroom with a coal fire alight - so cosy, warm and safe.
Lovely memories

Unfortunately I hardly ever saw any of them. Maybe a total of a dozen times over the years and not for long. Mostly I remember my Dad’s mother. She was kind and would give me a cuddle but my Mum fell out with her so that was that.

My English GM died when I was 4, so I only have vague memories of her. My Irish GM died when my father was 3, so I didn't ever get to meet her. I loved my English GF- loved to listen to his stories of life in the RFC and RAF. He died quite young as well - only 74. I really miss him still.

I knew all of mine and the first grandparent to die was when I was 8 and the next one when I was 20. I consider myself very lucky to have had them and to have been the recipient of their love and kindness. I miss them still. I can also vaguely remember one set of great-grandparents who both died when I was around 4 or 5 years of age. My grandparents helped to make my childhood very special.

I only knew my maternal grandmother - we called her ‘blind Nana’ for obvious reasons. She used to cup our faces in her hands and trace our faces with her fingers. Never got to know why she was blind. Untreated cataracts probably, not hereditary , I’m sure, bgg.

I hardly knew my maternal grandmother, but my maternal grandma lived in the same town, just a bike-ride away. I usually went to the library on a Sat morning, and then onto Grandma's house, which always had a small of something cooking! She was quite diminutive, but quite agile, and I always remember her demonstrating how she could touch her toes, well into her 90s! No one knew exactly how old she was, as she has been a refugee from Lithuania and her birth certificate got lost en route.
In her latter years, she came to live with us. She was never a great conversationalist, but was very placid and never raised her voice or lost her temper.