Sheila & My Grandmother
She helped mold us into who we are today.
She was good, kind, helpful to everybody.
and loved by us both.
She had the front room of our house as a bedroom.
and I was there when she died.
It was then at 12 years old I learnt that death is beautiful.
I have no fear of dying
It is not the end... just the beginning of a new life.
3 comments:
I only have one flashback, and she is letting me help her make jam tarts, she gave me a teaspoon of jam, and our Mother caught us. Oh the trouble we got into, it was the rationing period just after the end of the war. Sadly I never knew any of my grandparents, and neither did my children know theirs.
Strangly, through family stories and history learnt, I feel so very close to my grandparents. Nanna's first husband, my dad's dad, is incredibly close to me - yet he died in WW1 when my dad was only four. Other grandies are also close - yet we never met. You both look very like this mum's mum and I too could pass for my mum's mum, from photo's and -I'm told, mannerisms. We can't control everything, must as we may wish to! Choices, yes and you have chosen wisely - as in your blog name - the owl! x
I reckon I would have known from that photo whose Grandmother she was. So much of Sheila in there...for some reason I cannot spell Sheila correctly so glad you had it there for me to copy.
I lived with my maternal Nana who was also my Great Aunt, my own Nana died when Mum was about3 or 4 and Grandpa married her sister. She read me stories, and called for me in vain as I hid with a book behind the sofa which was across a corner under a window in the living room. I was there from maybe 3.5 yrs to 7 ys of age only going home on week ends. She was a little old lady with neat grey hair...even when I was young according to one photo I have.
Unfortunately in my build I take after my paternal Grandma and aunts.
That is lovely...memories are precious.
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