Things you remember about your own grandparents.

My gran on my mother's side was Welsh-speaking and a staunch Methodist. She never drank, and had a cup called a Rechobite(?) cup which was something to do with the Temperance movement. I can't remember her smiling, ever.

My grandfather was a blacksmith in the local pit. He was in charge of the cage carrying the miners up and down. One night the cable snapped and the cage hurtled to the bottom of the shaft. It was empty, but my grandfather felt responsible and had a nervous breakdown.

My paternal grandmother had, in retrospect, a sad life. She brought up 5 children in post-Depression South Wales. Her husband, my grandad, was a violent man who beat his wife and children. My father left home at 15 to escape him, although he managed to take O Levels and get a decent (ie white-collar) job.

My grandparents were total opposites and I doubt they ever spoke after my parents married.

My maternal nan was from a Lancashire mill working family and had brought the mill girls out on strike because the machines were not safe. Strangely, they didn't sack her and did sort something out to improve things. My maternal pop was of Irish catholic background. His father was an overseer in a mill, so a bit more upmarket. Pop's mother died of 'childbed fever' after her 7th baby was born. And, a year later her husband committed suicide by hanging himself from the bannisters. My pop found him. A friend of the family took all the children in and eventually my pop was sent to work as a clerk for Hansard. He eventually (why don't I know how?) became an electrical engineer and rose to be the Chief Engineer responsible for developing the first diesel engines for LMS. He was quite austere but loved me to bits. My nan was very kind but never really lost the feisty nature she exhibited in the mills. We all did what she said.

My paternal GPs were wealthy as my GGF had a factory making galvanised buckets! They were also Irish (but protestant). My GF was a director of an oil company but took all his investments out of the company, resigned and gave the money to a man who took it to America and disappeared (wish I knew more of that story too!!) My father was sent home from his prep school, on his own, on the train because his fees hadn't been paid. They then owned an hotel in Derby which was really down to my granny's hard work. She had been trained in London as the first woman pastry chef and was a phenomenal cook (as was my Dad, her son). Granny was very glamorous - she had furs, dripped with diamonds, drove open topped cars, smoked with a holder but barely spoke to we children. When they sold the hotel, they bought a huge house which was full of (what I now realise was) fabulous furniture, silver, porcelain etc etc. The house was very forbidding though and a bit scary. The only comforting thing was the steady tick and regular chimes of the grandfather clock which is now in my hall.

Sorry for the essay - I started to type and couldn't stop. No need to read but it did me good to write.

I remember my father's mother telling me about when she was a girl. She told me about penny bazaars where nothing cost more than a penny and she also described Queen Victoria's funeral as she lived in London and actually remembered it. Amazing. It was like having real direct contact with history.

Every one dies twice - once when they die and again when the last person who remembers them dies.
Write down your memories as far back as you can go. All life stories are interesting.
Leave them for those who come after you and hand them down through the generations.

My paternal GF died when my father was a teenager. F died when I was 11 so he was never talked about. I was not close to paternal GM as she lived with her daughter and almost brought her D's children up so they were the only GC she seemed close to. Maternal GP's both died before I was 5 so the briefest of memories of them. How lucky most of our GC are today who have lovely, caring and loving GP's

My paternal gran died before I was born, and paternal grandad shortly after, and I have no memory of him.
On the maternal side, nana was always busy working, she was a secretary/typist. She was a wonderful cook, but seldom bothered, preferring to spend her time sitting relaxing, "I've been at work all day"!
Grandad however, was the most wonderful man I've ever met! He used to sit me on his lap and read dictionaries and encyclopedias with me from a very early age. He read stories with me too, but he firmly believed in education as the second most important thing you can give a child, the first obviously being love! He was tall, with pure white hair and as I, as a child described it, a nose like a red indian chief! He taught me to play the spoons, the cornet and the piano, and attempted to teach me to tap dance, but I have two left feet! He suffered from Parkinson's and died aged seventy nine of pneumonia after breaking a hip in a fall in their living room when I was twenty five. He met my husband, (then boyfriend) but only once, and it really hurts that he didn't live to see me married, or meet our son. My nan, however, lived to be ninety five, and stayed as selfish as she'd always been, but of her four children and eight grandchildren, mum and I were her favourites, maybe because we accepted her as she was. She was eighty three when my son was born and she absolutely adored him, and they had a brilliant and close relationship for the rest of her life. She was still a bit 'cold' with the rest of the family, but relished being a great grandmother!

My maternal grandfather died in WW1 so I never knew him but I absolutely loved my maternal grandmother to bits. We lived in London and her house was destroyed in the Blitz so she lived with us until I was 4 when she returned to her rebuilt house. Every happiest memory of my childhood encircles her and her house. I remember she always referred to my sisters and myself as 'her little cherubs'. I loved the description and the concept. My love was not based on any particular behaviour or look. It was just we were on the same wave length and she understood me, which wasn't always true at home.

She died quite suddenly when I was 14. It was the first, and for many years, overmastering tragedy in my life. After she died and her house was sold, I could not bring myself to walk down her road and past her house for over 30 years, even though we only lived a few streets away.

My paternal grandparents died before I was born . My maternal grandparents lived. 2bus rides away so we did not see a lot of them I don't remember them visiting us my I remember my grandma in wraparound pinny standing with her back to coal fire warming her legs my grandad was a miner as were my uncles he was a quiet man I don't remember them cuddling me much I'm opposite love to cuddle my gchildren want to create warm loving memories for them ❤️

I have no recollection of my Grandfathers, one died before I was born and the other shortly after.

My maternal Grandmother I remember always wore black and died when I was about 8. I have a vivid memory of her bathing me one day and saying 'Lets get you out and put your bloomers on'. I thought it was strange, I didn't think I wore bloomers.

My paternal Grandmother lived on a farm in her later years with her daughter and family. I was taken there for 2 weeks every year until she died and on arriving at the farm was presented with a box of buttons and an old set of weighing scales. This was supposed to entertain me for the holiday. As you can image I wanted to go home from about the 2nd day. However, I do have fond memories or this Grandmother and when she died in 1968 having just read a letter from my Dad (which I now own) she went to sleep in her chair and didn't wake up again, I thought what a lovely way to go.

Thanks for the memories Daddima.

I agree with BRredhead59. I have written my memories so my great grandchildren will learn about their great great greats. My maternal was a redhead and retained the colour til the end. she had a temper. She told me that she lost her first baby because she had no idea how the baby would be born and she wouldn't lift her skirts in front of the male doctor and the baby suffocated. She had 7 more children including my mum in 1900. In 1942 I was granted compassionate leave because she was dying. Whilst visiting her she suddenly said "I'm not going to die because he'll be down the Fellowship pub every night and won't look after himself." She lived another ten years! My grandfather was a printer, a strict trade unionist. A friend of Kier Hardie. My mother said not many could say they sat on Kier Hardie's knee when child. My father was one of 13. I never saw his father and only visited his mother when she was dying.

My paternal grandparents died before I was born. My Nanna was lovely and gentle, round and soft and she sat in a chair by the fire in a wrap round pinny with her long grey hair in plaited coils round her head. I know now that the reason for her agoraphobia (she never left the house)was trauma from the blitz. She died in the Asian Flu epidemic - she was 64 - one year older than I am now. My Poppa (he was Jewish) as the most gentle man with the most wonderful manners. he was very much loved in his community. Poppa was gassed in WW1 and died from lung cancer a few years after Nanna - he was 70 - same age as DH now. they are both a wonderful memory.

I only knew my paternal nana and she died when I was 6. She hated me and used to pinch the inside of my leg. I wasn't allowed to have special biscuits - they were kept for my sister, who she loved. She was a miserable, nasty piece of work and I can't even look at a photo of her without shuddering. Mind you, I probably was to blame as I popped paper bags behind her!

I remember going to my grandparents for Sunday tea and eating my Nans homemade jam tarts .x

My maternal grandfather had been shot in the throat in one of the battles at Ypres in the First World War. It left him with a very husky voice which was pleasant to listen to, especially when he was singing. We used to go out to a club on Saturday evenings and he and my grandma and mother, who all had lovely singing voices (not inherited by me alas) were often requested to perform. Grandad's injury also meant he could never eat a hot meal or enjoy hot tea. Beer wasn't a problem though! He made me a bookcase about sixty years ago which we still use today.

My paternal granddad was a widower when I was born. He lived in a tiny cottage in Northern Ireland, with no electricity or running water. We would visit him on Sundays, so he would be sitting at the fire wearing his Sunday suit, and big farmers boots!

My maternal granddad worked in a department store in Liverpool. He was great fun. although he died when I was five I have memories of him making me laugh.

Maternal grandmother came to live with us when i was eleven. She was a knitter. All I can see is her sitting in her chair and knitting away. Her knitting was beautiful. She used to win competitions.

No one ever knew my material grandfather as my mother was born 9 months exactly after Armistice Day in WW1 to her unwed mother.

Well the world did go mad! There were rumours about a Norweigian sailor which may well be true as I've recently developed a genetic condition called Viking hand.

Lots about my maternal Grandma. She was my Mamma, hence I'm a Mamma too. Mum worked so I went to Mamma's before school, back for lunch then after school. Watched her use the old dolly tub and ringer, pluck the turkey, helped make rag rugs and 'tat'. She was 4ft 10ins (and a bit -very important!) but was a tough cookie - you didn't cross her. Loved her to bits

My grandparents weren't involved in my life very much so my memories are very limited and probably embellished by the stories that were told about each of them. They weren't good parents, not particularly loving or affectionate and came from the 'children should be seen, not heard' school of thought. Unlike nowadays, they didn't regard grandchildren as a second chance or opportunity so if we ever saw a grandfather or a grandmother (and never both together, either side) we were spoken about, not to and never had the shared fun that we have with our granddaughter now.

I knew all my grandparents. My maternal grandmother I called Nana died when I was 16. She had dementia and my grandad cared for her at home. He must have had the patience of a saint as I remember one incident in which Nana chased him down the street with a carving knife, accusing him of stealing all her money. She was lovely though. My grandad came to live with us when he could no longer cope at home. Where they lived is now a Co-op store.
My paternal grandparents were staunch Methodists. We went to Church every Sunday morning and sat in the same pew. My Granny would look daggers at us if we even fidgeted. My grandad had a metal plate in his skull and part of the iris of one eye missing. It looked to me as if his pupil had leaked. They were lovely gentle people, and I didn't realise how much I miss them until this thread reminded me.

What a lot of us lost grandparents before we were born, showing how much shorter lives were then.
We lived abroad when I was little and three grandparents were dead before I ever knew them. The other grandmother lived with us during my teens, she was considered too old to live alone, she must have been about 60!
I look very like this grandmother though not much like either parent.

Himself's grandfather was a carpet fitter. He came to our first flat, took a look, and cut the carpet to size. He was 82 at the time.

I have a vague memory of my maternal grandad being in bed when I was about 3, and he died not long after. He and my maternal granny had lived for most of their lives in Radstock, near Bath, where they ran the hardware shop (which is still there now). Before grandad died they moved to Weston Super Mare and ran a guest house which Gran turned into flats after his death. She was lovely and great with her 9 grandchildren. I used to go and stay with her on my own in her flat and we would sit up in her bed in the morning knitting. She was known as Donkey Gran because of the donkeys at Weston. Her birthday was in February so she used to come and stay with us for a week or so and would make pancakes every Tues as she wasn't sure which one was Shrove Tues ! She used to cook sponge puddings too and any leftovers would be sliced and fried in butter the next day - gorgeous. Every time she came to stay we used to wait to see her hat as she was always buying new ones. Grandad had served in WW1, with a horse regiment- he was used to horses as he used them to make deliveries from the shop. My Mum told us he was in the 'home guard' in Radstock in WW2, and it was just like it is on the Dad's Army programme ! My paternal Gran lived on a pig farm, with her second husband, and so was called Piggy Gran. She was a hard lady, not affectionate, and altho she was fine with her grandsons, she wasn't very nice to me. My step Grandad was lovely though and we used to go into the huge pig shed with him, and into the huge chicken houses on the farm.

My maternal grandfather was lovely. Very gentle. Hard of hearing.
Smoked a pipe. Whatever happened to pipes? Noone seems to smoke a pipe nowadays.

Maternal grandfather died in 1931 when my mother was 11. Maternal grandmother lived with other family members in a house in Hereford. I have vague memories of visiting this house where there were 2 old ladies sat in high back chairs. I only knew them as Granny-P and Granny-B. I know now that Granny-P was my maternal grandmother and Granny-B was her mother. Ironically, they died within weeks of each other aged 71 and 91 when I was 6.

My paternal grandfather was killed in Flanders in 1917 when my father was less than a year old. He is buried at Lissenthoek Cemetery just outside Ypres. My wife and I put flowers on his grave whenever we pass through Flanders - usually every other year.

My paternal grandmother re-married but her second husband left her in the mid-1930s and I have no idea what happened to him. We used to visit her every couple of weeks. I remember those visits as a chore rather than with any affection and I think that relations between her and my parents were always strained. She died in 1963, when I was 12.

I didn't meet my maternal grandparents until I was nine as we'd been living in Hong Kong and Canada. This was 1953 and travel was expensive and difficult. I adored them right away. My darling grandfather was my father figure as mine was so cold. He was loving and fun. My grandmother spoilt me rotten and I loved staying with them. She used to take me to the pictures in afternoon followed by tea and cake at Fullers.