What Makes Things Special?

Absolutely HollyDaze. My Gran was the heroine of my happiest memories. Just so many small episodes of kindness, patience and fun. When my first GS was born a few years ago I determined to try to be as good a Gran as she was. I must be doing fairly well anyway as he just gave me his precious, hard won "well done" sticker from nursery!! I`ll have to keep it up!

Aww, how lovely Jane10 - that will also go into your treasured memory file

I don't have many memories of my grandmother as she was in her late 70s when I was born but I do remember helping her off with her corset (she still wore that at that age!) and I was allowed one of her chocolates for helping. She was diabetic and we had all been warned not to touch her special chocolates (they were probably very expensive back then) so it felt really special that she gave me one of those treasured chocolates!

suebaily1 - my childhood was horrendous too but I have to say I can still pick out small pleasures from it. When my dad was sober and working (not very often) and he gave us kids half a crown to go to the sweet shop
Being taken to the toy shop one Christmas where you could choose a doll and the lady who owned the shop let you go through her books of doll patterns and you could choose an outfit for the doll. The memory of that doll on Christmas morning will stay with me. She was a crinoline lady with a beautiful blue and white dress and a big hat which tied under the chin. I can still see her blue eyes and pretty blonde curls. She was my pride and joy but when my younger sister had to go to hospital for an operation, she was so distressed every time we went to see her that I let her have my precious doll and the other kids in the ward ruined her

I'm having difficulty recalling anything really special from childhood.
My maternal grandmother died when I was 9 and is remembered as being very stern. Did basic dressmaking for neighbours and was the first in the street to get a fridge. Maternal grandfather was more laid back, enjoyed a few too many bevvies and did as he was told. He came to live with us after granny dies and was a nice man.
Paternal grandparents were much older and as they had 11 children who also had lots of children, I don't think they knew who we were half the time. Lived in a really old house with an outside well, up a lane.

My parents existed together. Mother never went out, father did.... fond of a drink and a game of cards. He was the kindest of men and provided what warmth there was. Mother I think was depressed, certainly not social, and found a lot to criticize.
No family holidays or outings.

And yet I didn't really be aware of being unhappy, it was just how it was.
Not a lot of effort was put into making sure the children were happy (me and my dear brother).

But then I remember going with my friends to the park, 10 minutes away. Spending hours at the beach, a towel under our arm, no worries of health and safety. Taking the swings up as high as possible. And the white canvas plimsolls whitened and drying on the back yard wall in the sunshine.

I think that anything that gives a warm glow is special.
The birth of my son and his happiness and being friends as grownups.
My stepsons telling me they love me.
My lovely DH.
Special is emotions.