Greetings, My late maternal grandmother's 111th birthday was on Dec 13th, just a few days ago, and it got me thinking about her, and about grandparents in general. She was the first of nine children, born on December 13th, 1903, just 4 days before the first successful flight of the Wright brothers at Kitty Hawk. What an extraordinary woman! Although she spoke only French when she got married to a British-born immigrant, she moved with him out west to Alberta to homestead during the Great Depression. We have pictures of her on horseback with the Rocky Mountains as a backdrop. My mother and my uncle were born there, in the foothills. She learned to speak (heavily accented) English, worked hard, loved to play piano, and was a pretty good card-player. After my parents divorced, my mother moved back to Montreal from Mexico, hence, my first memories are at my grandmother's home. Since my mother had to work, my grandmother took care of my sister and I during our pre-school years. Every now and then, I would sing to myself and suddenly discover that she would be standing there enjoying it, having interrupted her routine just to hear me. She had so much to tell about her life, and about what she experienced, I could listen to her for hours. She was always cheerful, and could be devastatingly funny. We had terrific laughs together. She was the one who made holiday meals, she made wonderful dishes and our meals always left us groaning with full stomachs. She died in 1989, having lived a full and love-filled life. Do any of you have stories to tell of your own grandparents?
Those are lovely thoughts. My grandmothers on both sides of my family were positive, generous and kind. Not the best cooks in the world, but no one is perfect
What an inspiring life! You're grandma was a real pioneer. I'm lucky to be close to my grandparents too, especially on my maternal side. I've always had a soft spot for old folks. I've never wanted kids of my own, but I don't mind taking care of old people. It just amazes me to think about how things have change in their lifetimes; they're such an important link to the past. My dad's parents grew up outside a little German town in northeast Kansas, on the rolling prairie. Both of their families farmed and they both grew up without electricity or running water and used only wood-burning stoves for cooking (this was in the 40's). When we were little, my grandma would light her grandmother's old oil lamp and tell us stories as she put us to bed. My maternal grandparents are from the Philippines and lived through the end of WWII with the Japanese occupation. My grandmother's family farmed as well and when word would come that the Japanese soldiers were moving through the area, their whole family would pick up and hike into the forested mountains and camp out until it was safe. My grandma still tells me stories of how it was fun for her as a little girl, picking wild fruits and catching shrimp in the streams to cook. Such a world away from where we are now!
