What do you remember most about your grandparents?

[Old Troop]

I remember my grandfather sitting on the porch of his victorian home listening to the Red Sox and smoking cigarettes. What sticks in my mind is that he never flicked the ash off the cigarette, he ran his thumb over the coal to get the ash off.

[HipChick]

1. Never knew them..

Both paternal and maternal sets passed away when I was a baby..

[Kaleva]

2. They talked in Finn when they didn't want us kids to hear what they were talking about.

My great-grandparents were very old and they spoke no English even though they lived in this country for decades.

[Inchworm]

3. They all liked beer

:toast:

[femmocrat]

4. I had wonderful grandparents.

On my dad's side, they were from the "Old Country" and I learned so much about our heritage from them. They lived next door so we were up there all the time.

On my mom's side, my grandmother was just an amazing woman. My grandfather was a WW1 vet and was sick a lot. He had been gassed in the trenches and had respiratory problems. He died when I was very young.

I was so lucky to have them.

[valerief]

5. My nana pretended to throw her "mollyboolies" over her shoulders.

And she'd pretend to kick them back in place with her feet.

Her husband died before I was born. I never knew how. They were mysterious circumstances.

[Old Troop]

6. One thing I remember from my grandmother was her speaking of going

to North Conway by coach. I said that must have been so cool and she replied "it was so uncomfortable that I'd take a car any time"

[handmade34]

7. so much... all fond memories

my maternal grandfather:
stitching up a bad cut on his arm... by himself
tending his bees in his beesuit and helping him gather a swarm
scolding me for sitting on the pig fence

my maternal grandmother:
playing the piano and letting me brush her very long hair
tending her garden and feeding me leaf lettuce with sugar on it
making molasses cookies in the wood cookstove

my paternal grandmother:
gazing at the moon the night of the 1st moon landing with her
walking... she took longs walks everyday
she would make a pot of tea everymorning and then just keep adding water to it all day... by evening it was just water :-)
sewing dozens of postage stamp quilts... by hand
buying me my first sewing machine and demanding that I learn to sew (I did)

my paternal grandfather (WWI vet) died when my father was just a year old and my grandmother took my father and aunt to live at the VFW home in Eaton Rapids MI.

[Old Troop]

9. What beautiful memories

[MrScorpio]

8. My Grandfather's pipe smoke

He'd sit in his chair and smoke away.

ANd the smell was sweet.

[Ikonoklast]

10. To this day, whenever I smell an R.G. Dunn cigar, I think of my Grandpa.

He smoked them continuously.


It broke my heart when he passed, I really loved my Grandpa.

[Brickbat]

13. My grandpa, too.

I love the smell of pipe smoke because of it.

[GCP]

17. I had a Grandad like that

His pipe smoke was the nicest I've ever smelled. Sweet and mild.

[Old Troop]

11. Sorry. I keep thinking of things about my grandparents.

My father's mother lived with us in the early sixties. She'd, apparently, lived a very hard life. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, when we kids were panicking over what might happen, she said, in her very severe voice, "We'll probably all die, but God will take us into his loving arms."

[NV Whino]

12. Going fishing with my grandfather

Eating all the goodies my grandmother baked: doughnuts, cinnamon rolls, cream puffs and the list goes on.

My father was orphaned at an early age. I never new his parents.

[Aristus]

14. My maternal grandparents were ultra, ultra-conservative Southern Baptists

who raised my mother, who became a very liberal Kennedy Democrat and a Methodist.

As fiercely right-wing as my grandmother was, she was also pro-choice. For a couple of reasons, probably. Her attitude was: "If a Christian woman got an abortion, she must had a good reason."

Plus, there was no way any man in the world, much less a male-dominated government, was going to tell her what she could and could not do with her body.

[Skittles]

15. one set in America, one set in England

my American grandparents blamed my bad habits on my Brit upbringing; my English grandparents blamed my bad habits on my American upbringing. They wrote to each other for thirty years but never met. :o

[The Midway Rebel]

16. The camping trips.

We'd load the car and hit the road for a weekend. I saw lots of Kentucky forsests, woods and hollows.

To this day, I don't feel right unless I have tall trees over my head.

[Bennyboy]

18. Tattooos.....

Mu grandpa had a tat that said "Esther" on his arm. He was married to Ethyl, who never ever forgot that and reminded him of it all the time.. My grandpa tried to remove it every way he could. Rock salt, sandpaper,everything. Probably the reason I don't have a tat of any kind on my body.

My grandma was one of the worst human being I ever met. She was a huge hypocondriac and held grudges for decades... (Much like my Father).

I only saw my Mom's Mom twice in my life and she was very old at that the time so I hardly have any recollection of her. (My Moms dad dids when she was 7)

[tammywammy]

19. I'm lucky my grandfather is still here

He's 89. The things I will always remember are Old Spice and watching old western movies with him. He loves westerns, so whenever I visit I always get to see a couple. :)

And I'll always remember when he talked to me about WWII (he was in the Pacific for the whole war - Navy). And how this old Southern Baptist told me he thinks you're born gay, and that they should have the same rights to get married (after I told him about some friends of mine that drove up to Iowa from Texas to get married).

[Xithras]

41. Same here. She's 89 and I'm grateful for every day I have her.

Losing my other three grandparents, who I loved dearly, makes me better appreciate the time I have left with her.

She has no plans on leaving this world anytime soon though, and has already outlived half of her children. She still lives in the same house she raised my dad in, and spends her days tending to her huge gardens and greenhouse. We've tried to get her to move a few times (her neighborhood has gone SERIOUSLY downhill in the past 20 years), but she just tells us, "I've lived here since 1949, and this house is part of who I am. Make me move and you may as well just shoot me, because I'll be just as dead."

We figure that we'll get a call one of these days from the police, informing us that a neighbor has found her keeled over in her garden. That idea doesn't bother us much, though, since that's the way she wants to go.

[SoCalDem]

20. My maternal grandmother wore home made aprons with colorful ric-rac

& my grandfather wore overalls & always had a pocketful of lemon-drop candy:)


When my grandmother died, she had a closetful of new clothes..but they were "for good"...and she always chose her old house-dresses & her aprons:)

[proteus_lives]

21. I remember one grandfather's riding lawn mower.

When I was little, he let me steer while I sat on his lap.

My grandma's cigarettes, shag carpets and her grilling me hamburg sandwiches.

My other grandfather went senile before I was born and was a child for the last 20 years of his life. He was so lost, I always felt sad when looking at him. I shudder at such a fate.

[cherokeeprogressive]

22. Vacations. We took some epic ones; long, road-trip vacations.

Either in a cab-over camper or a trailer pulled by my Grandpa's Blazer.

[REP]

23. My maternal grandmother was one of the meanest bitches that ever lived and a horrible cook

My paternal grandparents disowned my brother and me, so I only saw them once, and then she was stealing silverware, napkin holders, etc from the restaurant where we were eating.

[Lindsey]

24. I remember that I had the best grandmother ever on this

planet. We were actually like friends. I could tell her ANYTHING and she me. She was instrumental in raising us because our father died (her only child) when I was 12 and my mother was very, very unbalanced (but we still lived with our mother). When I became an adult and young mother, I lived with my precious Grandma. Then, when she got much much older and needed assistance, she lived with me and my son. We had help come in every day while I was working to assist her. That's where she was living when she passed (after being taken by ambulance due to Congestive Heart Failure). Her picture is in my address book which I happen to carry w/me almost all the time. It comforts me. With all of the tragedy that my family has endured, Honey (that's what we called her), saved my life with her wisdom, kindness, understanding, and everything else that extraordinary people posses. I know this was probably meant to be a light post but that's what I remember about my grandmother.

[Bertha Venation]

30. very moving

Thank you for telling us about Honey. :)

[REP]

38. What I posted was true. Sorry not to have good memories.

[susanna]

25. Learning how to make...

Buttermilk biscuits, sausage gravy, greens and pork, skinning, gutting and cleaning for dinner my very own catfish (fresh caught)...

Beyond that, and maybe more important, was the idea that in a little teeny postage-stamp urban lawn you could grow food. And lots of it...

Which brings me to canning. I'll stop here. But I do miss my grandparents terribly.

[old mark]

26. My dad's mom made wine, something she did as a young lady in Germany

before WWI-she was a nurse/midwife there, the only medical person for many miles around-she went to college in BudaPehst...
Mom's parents were very different - He loved music, and introduced me to the musical inspiration of my life, Les Paul - he had a small collection of Les Paul and Mary Ford records and I LOVED them! He retired from working on the railroad alll through the depression. My grand mother made HUGE meals with many different side dishes and vegetables. They were part Osage indian, part Irish and German.


mark

[wickerwoman]

27. We lived on the other side of the country

so I didn't get to know most of them very well.

Father's father- died before I was born.

Father's mother- only met her once when I was about nine. She told us a story about drowning kittens in a burlap sack during the Depression and then took us swimming at the lake where my foot accidentally grazed something that felt like burlap. Ran out of the lake screaming and had nightmares for two months. She passed away when I was 11.

Mother's father- had reams and reams of poetry memorized. Everyone says he was hilarious but he died when I was six and I only met him once. I have a vague memory of climbing too high in the lilac bush behind my house when I was about three and my grandfather lifting me out of it.

Mother's mother- used to have Thanksgiving at her house when I was in college since it was closer than my home. She'd never refrigerate butter, was a great Catholic democrat, lived in a terrifying neighborhood but had all the drug dealers wrapped around her little finger, got *everything* delivered by different people (milk man, meat man, veggie man, etc.)Her husband's old friends used to come over drunk, years after he'd died, and do "home repairs" which made her furious but she never managed to turn them away. She just lived with pipes coming up out of the middle of her bathroom floor. Unfortunately she passed away a few years ago.

[Phentex]

28. My grandmother spoke Italian only and she loved Lawrence Welk...

I thought she was using swear words but it turns out she was shouting vegetable names. My mother used them too. They sounded nasty.

[Crystal Clarity]

29. My grandmother loved her roses

and spoiled us, her grandchildren, w/lots of treats and money for penny candy. My grandfather had his garden, a homemade fish pond, and a really cool grape arbor... That grape arbor was a true wonder. It was like a cool shady room with walls and a ceiling LOADED w/3 different kinds of grapes, and thick healthy vines. My grandmother used to sit at a table in there on a hot day and knit while we played cards and games and literally 'ate the walls'... :-)

[Bertha Venation]

31. Florence, my paternal grandmother -- Grandma

I remember spending lots of nights at her house, probably whole weekends and weeks in the summer. We stayed up "late" watching game shows (Truth or Consequences, What's My Line?, one other I can't remember), sat on the carpet in the dark in front of the huge black & white console TV, and ate Planters dry-roasted peanuts and drank Dr Pepper. I remember going on the slip 'n slide - on the sidewalk (?). I loved going to Grandma's.

in no particular order

she gave us cherry brandy as cough syrup (I didn't know it was brandy until i was an adult) (it worked)

she gave me a place to live when I needed it. I was sixteen

she had an old washtub with a wringer out on the back porch, and hung the laundry out to dry on clotheslines

made lunch for her husband everyday, who came home from work for it. She peeled an apple for him everyday

she drank buttermilk

she was CHEAP. My dad made everyone laugh at Grandma's funeral by saying "Mom was (big pause) frugal." HAHAHAHAHAHA

she gave me a car, a '72 Toyota Corona Mark II (my stepfather was supposed to make payments to her but I'm sure he never did)

she gave me the down payment on the first car I bought, an '83 Toyota Starlet

she played hymns on her spinet piano, and gave me a few lessons when I was very young

she gave out the weirdest, cheapest Christmas gifts: rolls of expired film, give-away drug store calendars, cheap plaster animal figurines from Pic-N-Save

she made a fantastic fried marble lamp. My eldest sister got it.

she had a fantastic milky green glass pancake batter bowl with a spout and a handle. My other sister got it

I got her worriedness, in spades

she got dementia, Alzheimer's, and died on October 27, 2006. I still don't know how to live in the world without her

[driver8]

32. I remember my grandmother reading to us, and fishing with my grandfather.

I also remember the smell of my grandmother's kitchen -- she was always baking something amazing for us.

[bikebloke]

33. Words of wisdom from my grandmother.

"You can never learn enough."

"Let people say what they want to say, but you do what YOU want to do." That drove a stake through the heart of peer and familial pressure.

[Rosie1223]

34. My Granddaddy made the best sausage gravy and buttermilk biscuits ever.

He was a pool hustler during the depression and taught all the grandkids how to play.

My grandmother was incredible on the piano. She could sight read just about anything and played ragtime like no other. As a girl she worked in the silent movie house, playing for the movies. She said she would just make up the tune as the movie went along, changing the melody to match the scene playing.

My other grandmother would always make chicken and dumplings whenever we came for a visit. But the dumplings were different than most, not the puffy, biscuit-like, but more like large, thick noodles. I think they are also called 'slicks'. They were yummy.

My Dad's dad died when I was 3 so I don't remember him.

Fun post, I've enjoyed reading everyone's responses.

:hi:

[hunter]

35. My grandparents were crazy.

That's what my parents had in common.

I imagine my parent's first date went something like this:

"My parents are crazy."

"So are mine."

"I mean that in a bad smash-the-radio-with-a-baseball-bat kind of way."

"So do I."

My grandparents were just barely functional in their careers and entirely dysfunctional in their personal lives. When they retired they lost what few marbles they ever had. The DSM-IV is a book about them.

One endearing fact about my maternal grandmother was that she hated Barry Manilow. Had she not confined herself within her home as a hoarder of the very worst TLC sort she might have dug her deer rifle out from under the mounds of trash she lived in, fortified herself with a case of cigarettes and a bottle of Wild Turkey, and driven her noxious garbage filled car to Las Vegas to shoot him in the throat.

[MorningGlow]

36. A lot, for which I'm grateful

All my grandparents were off-the-boat Sicilians, which provided me with a pretty colorful childhood. My maternal grandparents died in their mid-90s, when I was 16, so I had lots of vivid memories. Plus my mom loved to work--very restless sort who wouldn't have made a good SAHM even if we could have afforded it--so I spent a LOT of time at my maternal grandparents'--all day, every day in the summer, and every afternoon after school.

I remember my grandmother trying to teach my Italian starting with the words for facial features. Too bad I didn't listen and instead had to take Italian in high school to learn the language. However, she did teach me all the cool swear words, and THOSE I remembered quite well. ;)

The "enormous" garden that stretched across the back of the yard that, my grandmother bragged, was a "double lot"--apparently having that extra bit of ground in the suburbs meant a lot to her. Eating sun-warmed, dusty tomatoes off the vine like apples. My grandfather worked in that garden every day and my grandmother canned everything that came out of it.

My grandfather drinking a big glass of warm tap water every morning. x(

Both my grandparents eating breakfast cereal made with milky coffee instead of plain cold milk. Must've been a digestion thing, like the glass of warm tap water. But they could eat anything and everything--and did--even though my grandfather had only a few teeth left, and my grandmother had none (and couldn't stomach wearing dentures).

My grandfather showing me his crooked fingers--at some point or other he accidentally cut off just about all of them at or near the first knuckle and had them sewn back on.

My grandfather putting on his three-piece suit, fedora, and raincoat to walk to the supermarket a few blocks away, almost every day, until he broke a hip falling on ice (on that same walk) in his early 90s.

My grandmother's heavy orthopedic stockings and sensible shoes. My dad used to laugh about one time (that I WISH I had witnessed), when my grandmother (his MIL) stood in front of a full-length mirror, admired her (short, square) figure, and said in her heavy Italian accent, "Ju see? I still-a gotta nice-a shake." (She meant shape.) Yeah, grandma was pretty vain, gods love her.

My grandmother believing Saturday-afternoon wrestling was real and getting so worked up she'd shout at the TV. Her favorite word for when a wrestler got body slammed--"Poffa-ta!" I still don't know if it meant anything to her or was simply onomatopoetic.

Soooo much more...I could go on for hours.

I don't remember my dad's mom very much (his father was a coal miner in Pennsylvania and died of black lung disease before I was born), except that when we visited her in the evening, she'd have all the lights off in the house to save money, except for the fluorescent ceiling light in the kitchen. While she and my dad chatted, I ate pretzel logs. Her kitchen was always neat as a pin and smelled of anise.

[jobycom]

37. My grandfather hurling racist slurs at the TV during reports of busing.

My grandmother making mayonnaise sandwiches for us because it was all she ever learned to cook. She was mentally ill, suicidal, selfish, manipulative... Not too many fond memories, unless you call lying in a fetal ball screaming while she beat the shit out of you with a stick or Hot Wheels track a good memory.

My grandfather was a decent person if you were white, I guess. He once showed me a check for 2 cents he had gotten from some job during the depression. He didn't relate well to kids, but he tried sometimes. He lived in a trailer next to our house, so I saw him all the time, but never felt comfortable talking to him. Definitely the "Get off my lawn!" type.

[av8rdave]

39. My Grandfather was a newspaperman for a county paper

I remember him taking me along to Village board meetings and occasionally interviews.

He had this old fashioned belied in getting all points of view on a story and sourcing it carefully. He would be mortified at what the "news" industry has become. My Grandma was the Village Tax Collector, and a great seamstress.

My other grandfather was a draftsman, a photographer, Ham radio operator and owner/operator of a photo developing business. Though he was bedridden for a lot of his adult life, he had an Incredible sense of humor, was curious about everything, and never met anyone he didn't like. My Grandmother worked full time to care for him through years of sickness and frequent hospitalizations (with NO health insurance). After he passed away, she was able to enjoy a very modest retirement for nearly two decades, thanks to careful planning and Social Security.

RIP. Though they've been gone a longtime, I miss them all terribly.

[Old Troop]

48. My mother's father was in the newpaper business. He owned a local paper

in Lynn, MA until the depression and worked, later, for the Boston Travelor as a proofreader (from what I see in the papers today, the position has been abolished). I still have his union card from those days! He also served as a delegate to the Democratic National Convention in 1932.

[LibertyLover]

40. I didn't know my paternal grandparents

but my maternal grandmother had lost a leg to diabetes and was in a wheelchair. She liked cats and always had at least one sleeping in her lap. My grandfather liked pickled pigs' feet and loved to take me to the get eggs in the hen house (yes, my grandparents actually did have a farm, just like the grandparents did in the "Dick and Jane" books that I learned to read from). He loved to laugh and I remember he got the biggest kick one time when I played with the piglets in a brand new snow suit and came back to the house smelling like, um, porcine manure, to put it politely. My mom bundled the outfit in a garbage bag and had to go out and buy me new clothes to go home in. She was not amused, but her father thought it was funny as hell. He did however, after selling that bunch of pigs, not get new ones. Another time his cows were let out of their pasture and we had to chase them back in. Or rather Grandpa laughed while watching us try to chase them back in. Then he got some hay, waved it in their general direction and the 4 or 5 cows followed him quite calmly back to the field. Grandma, back in the day, learned to drive in an old Model T. She had grown up driving horses, so until she lost her leg and couldn't drive anymore, she would stop the car by hitting the back of the garage (she was going very slowly of course) and pulling back on the wheel and calling "whoa". I never saw her do it, but it was a beloved family story. Whenever one of her kids would remind her of it, grandma would color up something fierce and mutter, 'well it worked didn't it?'.

[Paper Roses]

42. I remember so much but one thing in particular comes back frequently.

When my sister and I were kids, we lived about 75 miles from my grandparents. Every few weeks they would come for a day visit. They always had a gift for the two of us. One visit was underpants, the next time it was sox. Never varied.

All from JC Penney. I can still vision those pastel colored puckered cotton pants. They wore like iron. The sox were always white.

At one point, I think Sis and I had about a hundred pair of 'unders'. We joked about it but now that I think back, those darn things wore like iron. The accumulation got me through college. Wish I could find those pants today. Elastic like iron and they never rode up. The sox never slipped down.

I believe at the time that JC Penney was considered what is now considered a "best buy", quality and price.

PS, Nana made the best spaghetti sauce in the world. Canned her own tomatoes and--this is regional in Italy, she put raisins in the meatballs. I still do that today---the raisins and sauce, that is.
I would not have the slightest idea how to do the canning part. Garden too small anyway.

[Tikki]

43. Not much about mine, but Mr. Tikki's grandmother was

so amazing. All us Granddaughters-in-law loved her for being such an unique character.

She owned many homes in a 25 mile radius and whenever one went vacant she would call the
boys (grandsons) together to move her into that one. Of course it brought the whole family
together and there would be chicken dinner and pies and all.

She, also, was the Queen of recycling from way back, we all still have greeting cards from Grandma
(she rarely missed an occasion)...but she would find an existing card someone had sent her...scratch
out whatever kind of card it was for...and add her own greeting for whatever she wanted us to celebrate.
Mine is an Anniversary card scratched out and resigned by her to wish me a Happy Birthday.

She was sharp as they come and passed away in her sleep at maybe 92 years old or so.



Tikki

[Redstone]

44. The picture of my grandparents, trying their best to look white, and

not succeeding at all.

Redstone

[Gormy Cuss]

52. Ha!

I should show you the picture of my grandfather doing the same.

[Arkansas Granny]

45. I only knew one of my grandparents and she was not a nice person.

I don't know what had happened in her life to make her act so ugly, but she delighted in making other people feel bad. When she got older she lived back and forth with different family members until she was asked to leave because she caused so much turmoil everywhere she went. She lived to the age of 95 and caused a lot of trouble till the day she died.

My kids never spent any real time around her, but when they got older they told me that they couldn't understand why my sister and I were not heartbroken when she died.

[REP]

46. Apparently, we're not allowed to have bad memories in this thread

I was chastised upthread for posting about my grandparents because it wasn't sweet.

[Arkansas Granny]

47. Most people find it hard to believe that grandmothers can be mean people,

but there it is. Luckily, no one else in the family inherited her ugly side. She may have been the victim of some kind of mental illness, but she sure seemed to get a lot of enjoyment out of making people miserable. Even her favorites (and she had a few) knew that she was not nice to the rest of us and didn't understand it anymore that we did.

[REP]

49. You have my understanding and commiseration :-)

The one that spoke to us was like yours - only she was awful to her favorites as well. Her mother, on the other hand, was a lovely person. I didn't know her but my mother did.

When I see a restaurant that says they offer cooking "just like grandma's" I run. That woman could ruin a glass of water. She did make one good thing: refrigerator cookies. I'm not sure if they were actually good or just not awful like the rest if her cooking!

[Old Troop]

50. Actually, I was hoping to hear good and bad.

[marzipanni]

55. I think she clicked on reply without noticing she wasn't replying to the OP.

Read that post again- she said her dad died when she was 12, and her mom was unbalanced, and the family experienced tragedy, but her grandmother was wise, kind, and understanding."I know this was probably meant to be a light post but that's what I remember about my grandmother."
She had some bad memories, too, but not of her grandmother.

I'm sorry about your bad memories :hug:

[REP]

56. Thanks - my bad memories are now good stories!

Not to flog a dead horse, but since my post was unsweet and short (but true), I though the "lighthearted" was pointed at me. :blush: Maybe it's not always about me. I'm going to blame that on the heat and me being an idiot.

[marzipanni]

59. My brain is on simmer, too,

up here southwest of Sacramento. Hooray for the fog which will come back tonight, I hope!

The fog comes 

on little cat feet.

It sits looking
 
over harbor and city
 
on silent haunches
         
and then moves on

-Carl Sandburg

[kimi]

51. This is a really interesting thread

I've enjoyed it, honestly. It's endearing to hear the nice stories, and there are lots of those, but it's also good that people can be honest about the character of their forebears too. Makes us who we are, really. I think who and what we come from, genetically and otherwise, shapes who we turn into. And most people here are very good, decent, folks.

Yes, this is a good thread. Thanks, Old Troop. :)

[Old Troop]

60. I'm enjoying it too. I have both good and bad memories about relatives

[TrogL]

53. Nothing, not even pictures

They were all dead before I was born. I have my grandfather's bible.

[AsahinaKimi]

54. Well...

My Korean Grandmother is still alive and living with my mom. She spoke little English and lot of Japanese and Korean. I never met her husband, he was long gone. As for my Dad's mom, she must have died a few years after I was born, because when I was 6 months old, I went to Japan to meet her. Then a few years after that, my dad went back to Osaka to go though the house, and gather up things he wanted, before they sold the house. I never met my Grandfather, rumor had it he was a pilot in WWII and didn't come back. My dad never talked about it much, and I never asked him.

[Xipe Totec]

57. His leg scars from the Mexican Revolution n/t

[frogmarch]

58. Great thread.

Interesting stories, all of them! Thanks, everyone.

My paternal grandparents died many years before I was born, and so did my maternal grandmother. My maternal grandfather died when I was around 10. I never met him.

[applegrove]

61. I remember one of my grandmothers meeting her first great grandchild. She complained that he had too

many clothes on him for her to hold him. She wanted to connect skin to skin. So she took off his outer clothes and rubed and patted the little guy while she held him. She must have been in hver late 90s and the time and was very blind. She was very earthy like that.

[kimi]

62. I have good memories of my maternal grandparents

They were nice people. My grandma was from DAR stock, I have the "pedigree" and all, going back to the battle at Yorktown. Our family was fighting on the winning side, 2 members of the family. My grandfather was a great person too - from an old Irish family who settled in Kentucky way back, then he worked in a prison in Pennsylvania until WWI, served in the war, then when WWII started, he was called back up and got a special dispensation to go back to flying in that war. We've been an Air Force family ever since - my ex served, I served, my son will too.

My father's family - eh, not such nice people. French Canadian - not that that's an aspersion - settled in North Dakota. His father was a traveling preacher who married a 15 year old girl and beat her mercilessly until she, in later years, had to be institutionalized. She had a nasty habit of setting fires, and the neighbors became alarmed after awhile. He died in an old folks' home - I have little memory of him. She visited us in Iran when I was little (my dad worked for the State Dept), and I remember my mom speaking of her as condoning my dad's abuse of my mom. It was just how my grandmother saw the natural way of things, as how husbands treated wives, I guess. Sad, very sad.

We all evolve from how our families develop. Interesting how this thread has shaped into something of a topic on how people deal with tragedy, travails, and whatnot. And the little quirks that folks remember. I like that. It's good to remember the small things.

[Withywindle]

63. Shrieking peacocks!

My grandparents used to have a big house in Phoenix, MD - yes, the same town where 'Pink Flamingos' was filmed. I loved it, as a kid - huge lawn with big trees, peacocks in a shed, a swimming pool...I didn't realize until much later how strained their relations with my father, their son, really was. My granddad had a Purple Heart and leg brace from WWII. My great-grandparents (my grandmother's parents) lived with them. I called them Pop and Memah. Pop, my great grand-dad was a WWI vet. My father protested the Vietnam War and was not willing to perpetrate the military tradition, and that made things difficult...and his marriage to a Latina woman made it worse, as there's a lot of racism on that side.

My grandmother on that side is still with us. She's 91.

On my mother's side, I only had one living grandparent as a child, as Mom's mom had died when Mom was only 10. But my grandfather had a lot of money still when I was little and would come up from Brazil every summer. My only real conversations with him consisted of rote Portuguese phrases I had been taught by memory and translations by my mom. He died in a car accident in 1989, in his 80s.

[annonymous]

64. My paternal grandmother barely spoke English.

She came from Poland and was barely literate in her native language. I can still remember her garden and how she made hommade picalilli and poppy seed cake. My paternal grandfather died before I was born.

My maternal grandparents were fairly affluent and loved to travel. My grandfather had been to every country in South America. They gave me and my siblings some interesting presents from their travels. My grandfather also took me and my siblings to Kennywood Park a few times too. He also took us to Ocean City, MD and Williamsburg, VA

[ceile]

65. unconditional love

My grandparents (paternal) were the most loving, beautiful people on earth. I think of them everyday. Infact, I'm tearing up just writing this. I miss them.

[SalviaBlue]

66. Mom’s mom was in wheelchair due to arthritis.

Dour. Don’t remember her laughing or interacting with me. Mom always said she was a saint because of all she accomplished in spite of her disability. She died when I was 6. Grandpa remarried his second cousin. She was very polite and proper and gave us tiny glasses of 7-up when we visited.

Mom’s Dad was a very quiet man. He took a lot of pictures with a camera that you looked down into from the top. He took my sisters and me downtown to the mall on the weekend to have milkshakes and take pictures. Although he worked his whole life in a state agency for not a lot of pay and lived a very quiet life in the same small house, when he died he left my mother a valuable stock portfolio. He died after suffering for a very long time with Parkinson’s .

Dad’s Mom gave me “bear hugs” and liked to listen to rock and roll while doing housework. I stayed with her often and played with my aunt who was 15 years older than me but mentally retarded. She had an attic and a basement both of which I loved to explore. I remember the sounds at night: the dove and the trains. My mom didn’t like her. She had a lot of friends. At Christmas she would be surrounded by tons of gifts that people had sent to her. She lived her last years in a nursing home and I rarely visited her. I feel very guilty about this.

Dad’s Dad died when I was 8. For some reason my sisters and I were not allowed to go to his funeral. My uncle says he was a mean old bastard. I don’t remember anything other than him sitting in his chair scowling. He was a mechanic and made his own wooden tool chest (back in the ‘40s) which I now have. It has his initials hand forged of brass embedded in the lid… LTE It was all greasy but I painted it white and green and I now keep my sewing stuff in it.

[RFKHumphreyObama]

67. I remember all my grandparents

Although sadly my memories of my paternal grandfather are vague. When I was growing up, we were living in South East Asia and he was living in another country that was quite far away to visit. I only saw him a few times before he died and all of those times I was too young to have developed the relationship with him that I would liked. He was a former academic who had travelled widely in his youth. He ended up writing a book in his retirement about his experiences growing up during World War I that has since become somewhat well-known, being available in quite a lot of libraries where I live and which is also frequently quoted in history classes in both high school and university in my country. He died just ten days before we were to move to his country permanently to live and it was a very sad and tragic loss for all of us, especially since it was at a time when we were so close to being able to develop a closer relationship with him. He reportedly had a soft spot for me because I shared the name of his favorite brother, who had died in World War I

My most vivid memory of him was visiting him at his house on one of our trips to see him -I think I would have been five. It was Easter and there were lots of chocolates around and my Dad gave me a very strict warning that I was not to help myself to any of the chocolates that were on my grandparet's table under any circumstances. My grandfather was sitting at the table where the chocolates were and my Dad left me there with him and went off somewhere. My grandfather offered me a chocolate and I declined, because of what my father had said earlier. But he kept insisting on wanting me to take a chocolate and I remember feeling very confused as to whether I should take it or not. Finally my Dad came back into the room and he heard what my grandfather had said and allowed me to take the chocolate

I remember my paternal grandmother much better because she lived for another nine years after we moved to her country. She was from the United Kingdom and was very strict, traditional and conservative but at the same time very nice to spend time with and she seemed to indulge my interests in history and politics. She moved into a nursing home later on in life and seemed to enjoy it there. She lived to see some of her great grandchildren and died at the age of 92 in 2000

I remember my maternal grandfather much better because he lived in close proximity to us in South East Asia. He had lived an interesting life -having lived through the Japanese occupation of his country and having been briefly imprisoned by them during that time and also having reportedly having been targeted for assassination by the communist movement during the communist insurgency in his nation. He was an early role model and mentor for me and he was a kind and gentle man which a great sense of humor and passion for storytelling which could keep my sister and I enthralled for hours -everything from fairytales to stories of his childhood and the life that he had lived to how the judicial system worked -almost anything really. He was also a marvellous singer with the voice of a nightingale whom apparently used to rock us to sleep by singing to us when we were babies. He died in 1995 at the age of 92 and I miss him immensely beyond what words could ever convey

My maternal grandmother was one of the nicest, warmest, kindest and most compassionate people I think I will ever know in my life. She was a devout Christian who lived out her faith through her love and generosity toward others. She also had a wicked sense of humor which was employed to great effect to all who knew and loved her. She was the longest-living of my grandparents and therefore I probably had the closest relationship with her and got to know her the best out of all my grandparents. She told us stories about her life and early childhood and we were lucky enough that she wrote some of it down for us. She died in 2005 at the age of 99 and I miss her immensely, again what I can ever convey

[jberryhill]

68. Unabashed Racists

To the point where we had to be de-briefed by mom & dad after visits, to make sure we didn't pick up such language and attitudes.

Digging potatoes in their garden before the land was annexed for the Charlotte airport.

[Kali]

69. what a great thread

I was lucky to know all 4 of my grandparents quite well, 3 of them well into adulthood even to Greatgrandparenthood to my kids, although not long.

My strongest connection is to my Mother's father - I was his favorite and the ranch was our real bond. I cared for him the last 4 years until he died here at home in the house. My Grandmother was killed in a train-auto wreck in 1976 when I was 16.

My Dad's parents lived in Tucson and had a swimming pool - so summers were often spent mostly here at the ranch with week end-trips to see them and get sunburnt to a crisp, watch Marshal KGun on tee vee, eat treats like processed american cheese slices (still known to me and my sisters as Gma K cheese) and frozen french bread pizzas - stuff my mom and her mother NEVER bought. She was an elegant woman who could be a little snotty but it went mostly over our heads when we were small. Her brother lived in Indianapolis and the year I turned 16 they took me back east for the race. My Grandpa on that side worked out of town a lot so he would only come home for the weekends or when he worked out of the country he might be gone for a whole year (we think he may have worked for the state dept - all very mysterious, but he was in Saigon and Tehran in the 70s so who knows?) He liked beer and sausages and would swim with us kids when he was home. I have his old Corvair Lakewood wagon still.

My mom's parents. They were my second parents. They spoiled and encouraged me. Grampa would bring a horse up to Tempe for me to ride during the school year so I could pretend to be a spoiled rich kid with a horse. He taught me to drive in an old standard shift pick-up on these dirt roads. He taught me to ride and how to rope and tie a calf. How to vaccinate and earmark and brand. (I had to learn castrating on my own, I guess that was always the men's job) He liked salt on green apples and peaches and peeled both with his pocket knife. He like sugar on fresh or canned tomatoes. He didn't care so much for wood grilled steak because he ate so much that way as a young man - he preferred it fried in bacon grease. Grandma had dentures and they probably didn't fit well, she would often fiddle with them. She liked buttermilk and she put vinegar on spinach (Grampa would not touch vegetables except for tomatoes and cucumbers) she let us have a 6 oz coke once a week or so - Mom never bought soda (and didn't care for it herself) We had the big meal in the middle of the day and napped during the hottest part of the afternoon. Then we would often have ice cream and sit on the porch swing out in the yard overlooking the corrals and watch the cattle come in for their evening water. He would tell stories about people I didn't know. He chewed Wrigley spearment gum. After she was killed, we learned that my Grandmother had actually been married before she came out west to follow the typical pattern of the time by teaching school and marrying a cowboy. Another family mystery.

acckkk I could go on for hours and hours. I often come to tears thinking about all the grandparent experiences I had and knowing that my kids lost 3 of theirs so early - they have few to no memories - and the one left is just not grandparent material.

[Bombero1956]

70. I only remember 3 of them

My maternal grandfather died way before I was born. From my research on Ancestry.com I know his name was Jose Maria and he was born in 1899 and died in 1948.

My maternal grandmother lived to the age of 104 and had 16 children of which only 2 survive today. She smoked in bed. I know this because she lived downstairs from us and on occasion I spent the night at her house. I could see into her room in the dark and I could see the glow of the cigarette from my bed. She would make a cigarette last all day by smoking it in thirds then putting it out and lighting it later. She made huge saucepans full of coffee and made the best cornmeal and oatmeal.

My paternal grandfather worked in the sugarcane fields well into his 70's. I remember seeing him sharpening his machete in the doorway and later shaving with it. He slept in a back room by himself catching these huge rats with a trap he placed by the head of his bed. Gives me the willys just thinking about it.

My paternal grandmother was bedridden when I lived with them in 1963. I just remember her never getting out of bed at all, not even when Kennedy was assassinated.

[Art_from_Ark]

71. I have mostly good memories of one set of grandparents

Never knew the other set.

We ended up living in the same town as they, and we visited them often. I loved their house. It had lots of antique furniture, including an old 4-post bed in the second floor loft, a freezer that always let off a wonderful smell whenever we raised the top and then let it drop, and a garage that also had a fantastic aroma (probably one that I'll never smell again in my life :cry: ). There were two or three walnut trees in the yard, and a hickory tree as well, which had the most wonderful smell when the nuts were ripening (and they were delicious to eat as well, although a little tough to crack and get the meat out). The street the house was on was very quiet in those days, and there was a farm with a huge barn a couple of blocks down the street which had an almost exotic air about it.

We would often have Sunday dinner there, after which we might play a few games of dominoes or pinochle. My grandfather would tell stories about how he had served in the Pershing Expedition and how they were led on a wild goose chase through Mexico looking for the elusive Pancho Villa. Sometimes he'd light up a Muriel cigar, and there'd be a commercial on TV with some gal singing "Hey, big spender, spend.... a little dime with me" as she flipped a Mercury dime into the air in her pitch for Muriels. When he was done with a box of cigars, he'd give the empty box to one of us kids. Sometimes he and I would watch golf or tennis on TV, and that's how I learned the names of the big tennis stars of the late '60s and early '70s, like Stan Smith, Arthur Ashe, Yvonne Goolagong, Jimmy Connors, Billie Jean King, and Chris Everett. And some days when I was too sick to go to school, I would stay at their house and he and I would watch game shows like Eye Guess, Jeopardy! and Sale of the Century. And sometimes on Sundays, we'd watch one or more of the political discussion shows, like Meet the Press (with Lawrence Spivak) and Issues and Answers. I still remember our state's Senator, J. William Fulbright, discussing his opposition to the Vietnam War on one of those programs.

My grandmother seemed to have a special place in her heart for me, and she got me interested in stamp and coin collecting. It was always a special treat to see her stamp collection, which included lots of unused stamps from the '40s and '50s that were miniature windows on another age that was just before my time. She'd also look through her purse for silver dimes, and if she found one, she'd say "Save this and it will be worth something some day". Sure enough, those dimes are worth at least $1.20 each today.

And then my grandmother died at a relatively young age a couple of weeks before I was to start high school. It took me years to recover from that shock.