Gran

My Gran was a difficult lady. A widow for many years. Mother of one son. She was old fashioned. Strong willed. She reinvented events within her mind - ran over them and over them, little changes crept in and by the next day she would be convinced they had happened as she had decided and nothing could convince her other wise. nothing.

Class was more important in her day. My Dad took on the family business and married a nurse. But my Mum was never, ever good enough for Gran. Gran would snipe at Mum, despite all that Mum did for her, shopping and general running around.... Dad was not much help in this, he is definitely a man who is happy to leave the emotional stuff to others and going against his Mum was never easy. I think that lake of support did affect my parents relationship, I think it did lessen my Mum's respect for my Dad just a little.

My Mum found little tactics to get her own back. For instance the barbed comments she would pretend not to have noticed and then watch my Gran getting more and more frustrated.

It was me however that caused the huge family row. In my younger days I was a bit of a warrior for truth and justice. I stuck my nose out a few times as a teen and learnt that it is not always a good idea!

My Gran insisted on going to the supermarket for her shop. Her walking was getting bad as her double hip replacement declined. She had the old fashioned style of scrimping - all the prices had to be considered, so just buying a pack of porridge oats could take minutes. And she had a whole list of items.

Mum would send us girls off to help Gran while she did our shopping. On this day, Mum had long finished and was getting royally fed up. So she came and joined us and chivvied Gran along and with a slight lack of diplomacy, got the shop finished in just a few minutes.

The next day I was at my Grans with my Dad and my Gran, very unwisely she decided to complain about my Mum and the shopping trip. I couldn't keep my mouth shut and replied that that was not how things had happened exactly and that we had been in the shop for nearly two hours.

Kids will generally side with their Mums, because their Mums are the ones they spend the most time with, the ones most dedicated to them. What was my Gran thinking? It rumbled on for some time but in the aftermath, changes came about - Gran agreed to go to the little supermarket instead.

It became a kind of thing in my family, not said too loudly infront of my Dad, or really in front of my sister.... The Grandma blood.... My Dad has a lot of it - he can be grumpy and quick tempered for sure. My Sister got more of it than me, but I have my share too. What I did get from somewhere though that my Sister got a little less of was introspection. The quick temper I ruthlessly over-controlled in my teens and now, well anger comes out in other ways.... There is a tendancy to depression I think as well that runs with all this, and the more introspective, the more depressive.... At least until things start to come together as I think they are for me....

Needless to say, once the scales were off my eyes about my Grans treatment of my beloved Mum, nothing was ever the same between us. I stayed away a lot. I went home one time, she was in a nursing home by this point and as far as I was concerned she would live their for years. I wouldn't have gone to see her but Mum made me.

It was the last time I saw her.

She was so pleased to see me, so very, very proud.

At her funeral, the church was full. She was never the same with friends as she was with family. The vicar urged us to find a happy memory of us with this person. I couldn't think of one. I sat there and despaired.

So what has brought all this out?

Well, the wedding.

I decided to do a little wedding family tree - A photo of my parents at their wedding, one of Jay's aprents at theirs, and then one of the four sets of Grandparents at theirs to. This quiet opening of the doors to the ancestors. Acceptance. It can be a very powerful thing.

On my 18th, I was given my Gran's watch - her second best watch as my sister was older and got the best one. It was a lovely long sort of oval in an art deco style. It had been given to my Gran by her Mother on her 21st birthday. My parents had taken it to the jewellers to get a new strap as the old one had decayed but the new strap was a poor replacement. The style of the fittings and their size made it hard to get a decent strap.

I had been thinking about the something old for the wedding and remembered the watch. It felt right but when I tried it on the bracelet style strap that had always been tight would not even go over my hand. The jeweller doing our rings, makes things and is helpful, so I took him in the watch. He started talking about ostrich leather straps matching the watch and it's time etc.

not hearing anything from in a while, I spoke to him to see how he was getting on. He was having the same problem with fittings for the staps - the watch has bars rather than pins, so the strap has to be fastened around the bars as they do not come off. I could hear his frustration and his reluctance to tell me, but it seems he had a strap that would match the watch and fit. It was scrap metal and would be somewhat expensive....

I rang my Dad and he said go for it if it means you can wear it. So off I went to have a look and it was obvious straight away. Years at that shop, doing what he does and he had never, ever had a strap of this style sold to him before. It fit the watches fittings perfectly. It was long enough to fit my wrist beautifully. It matched the watch perfectly, same era, same style. It makes it look a million dollars.....

It bought a tear to my eye. And as I realised how unlikely it was that this strap would arrive at the same place as my watch, I realised I was meant to have it and my spine tingled. My ancestors are walking with me and stand by me as I go forth into married life (not that it will be much different to my current life!)

And writing all this, I realise that all the bad is over betwen my Gran and I and I am crying. And now I can remember the good that has eluded me for so long....

Memories....

Playing in her garden and climbing the cherry tree....
Walking the dog up her road, playing pooh sticks in the rivers and feeding the donkey....
Going to the shop for a sugar mouse....
Playing gin rummy....
Looking through the old encyclopedias....
Her giving me her favourite book - East Lynne...
The toys she kept in the bench in the hall....
The noddy books (oh how politically incorrect!)....
Sleeping in her box room (my sister got the grown up spare room with the pink bedspread) with my glass of lemonade next to the bed and a biscuit on top....
Malteasers and glacier mints....
Mince and napkin rings and fish finger sandwiches....
Playing with the snap dragons in her garden and picking beans....
Going to visit the other people at her club....
Going and seeing her in the spare room on Christmas morning where she would always have a snack and show her what Santa had brought...
Watching her embroider ladies on the tablecloth I have kept, hidden away in my sideboard....
The look of pride and happiness on her face that last time I saw her....

Love you Gran, rest in peace.