Grandparents

[storytimewithjoe]

This morning I called my mom to wish her a Valentine's Day.  For no particular reason, she mentioned to me that her mother was born on February 12th, 1885.  For those of you who actually knew or met your grandparents, this should help to put things into perspective. 

Growing up, I had one living grandparent, my father's mother Clara.  And from my earliest memories, she scared me because she looked so ancient.  She looked somewhat like Sophia from Golden Girls, except older.  And I often couldn't understand her.  Her voice was somewhat gargled, and she had a strong Portuguese-New-England accent.  She always wore black.  And in so many ways, she was the typical European stereotype of the matriarch of the family.  She was all I knew about the concept of grandparents. 

Yet, so much of that cultural identity is the sort of thing that utterly and completely fascinates me now.  Siiiiiiigh.

I wish I could have known all of my grandparents.  It would be interesting to know first hand who they were.

Comments

[takadai-no-tora.livejournal.com]

I knew all four of my grandparents. Both my grandfathers and one grandmother were skilled crafts workers; dad's dad was a plumber, mom's dad was a tool and die maker in England and became an electrician in the US. Mom's mom was a weaver in England and eventually became a baker here. I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that I've always done things with my hands and been good at the ones I was serious about doing.
I wasn't ever really close to my dad's parents, there was some history there, which I didn't find out until much later. They were much more involved with my cousins (dad's sister's kids) so my sister and I mostly did things with our mom's parents. I know I got much of my sense of humor from them, particularly from my grandfather. He was really the solid rock in my life when I was a kid. My younger sister had some serious health problems and my parents and Gram were preoccupied with her, but I could always hang out with Grampa, so it was OK. He died when I was 17 and I missed him terribly for years.

[slamson.livejournal.com]

My paternal grandfather was born in Nov of 1887, so I know what you mean. He died just shy of his 88th birthday, when I was 11. He was a Methodist minister, shopkeeper and farmer. He never really looked old to me, simply infirm in his last years, because of the family youthful appearance gene. My paternal grandmother had died at 62 many years before, but Grandpa had remarried a woman maybe 10 years younger, so I had her for a grandmother. She was quite vibrant, so it was a shock when she had a severe stroke the week before he had the one that began the final 3-month slide. They did the snowbird thing between Ohio and Frostproof, and we visited every weekend. While Grandfather was increasingly infirm, Grandma was da bomb! She loved kids and family get-togethers and was in high gear all the time. Although my grandparents were up in years because I was born so late, I was fortunately able to spend a lot of time with them while Grandma in particular was still sharp.

[aldgytha.livejournal.com]

I still miss my Grandma horribly. She went quite suddenly, and her loss was a great shock. My Grandpa was so sick for so long that I felt like I lost him long before I really did. I probably get my love of crafts from her, and my love of the outdoors from him.

My mom's father never really felt like Grandpa. Apparently he never forgave my parents for getting married, so things were very stilted. He made a point of trying to get to know us better a few years before died, but we never got the kind of bond with him that we had with my dad's parents.