When I was growing up there were very few constants… we moved house a lot, my parents marriage was not one of settled bliss, I always felt a bit of an outsider.
There was however a fixed point, my Grandparents house in Batley. It was a place of treats, Grandma’s handbag always had a bag of pick and mix in it, with some of our favourite sweets! Poppy’s cafe in the precinct was an exotic delight, the local museum had a real mummies foot in it and a park with a huge duck pond at the bottom of the hill. Pulled fingers produced the most amazing ‘fluffs’. The tomato plants in the greenhouse were the tastiest, reddest, juciest…
And at the center of it all was Grandma and Grandad, Grandad would get told off but with such a twinkle in Grandma’s eye you knew they loved each other! Grandad had black nails from his engineering job, when I was very little Grandma worked in the toy department of Schofields.
As grandparents went they were perfect…
they took us on day trips to Bridlington, we went for picnics, Grandma taught me how to knit, the only thing they did wrong was refusing to be immortal, so they also taught me that you can survive the death of someone you love dearly.
Grandma passed away when I was 24, allegedly declaring she’d die of shame if grandad didn’t do a quick hoover before the ambulance men came… but I see her whenever I see my Mum, and remember her whenever I try to do the right thing, and whenever we moan about my sister being too soft for her own good!
When Alun asked me to marry him, the choice of person to walk me down the aisle was easy, how could I ask anyone else… I asked my hero, then man who showed me how good marriage could be, how marriage is about love, respect, family, farting to order, laughter and joy. Grandad approved of Alun because he was an engineer (a proper mans job) we never mentioned that it was computers he engineered, that may have been a bit sissy!
He died in February 2001, after a long decline into dementia, a cruel end to a fine man. His carer’s would never know the joy he shared in life, his addiction to newspaper bingo (he used to get extra cards from the newsagent), his ability to fall down the stairs in a comedy manner evry new years eve. Or why at his funeral the sound of Tommy Steele singing “Little White Bull” reduced the family to shuddering tears.
His funeral was a week before we found out we were expecting our much longed for first baby (aka Eeney) she has the same startling blue eyes and so I see him every day!
The values our families give us are a great gift and a blessing, so I can remember with a tear and a smile the great people who shape us, love us and make us who we are, so though they may pass away they never leave us as they are embodied in our lives, loves and values.