A charming story to remind you how precious a Grandmother's love, how beautiful the memories she makes, and how great the influence she has on younger generations.
It’s 4 am on a dark, cold morning in 1977 in Mooroolbark, a suburb outside of Melbourne in Victoria. Dad wakes my sister and I up.
“Come on girls, get in the car. It’s time to go to Grandma's house.”
This was our regular fortnightly trip to the city . Dad would drop us off at Grandma's house on his way to work. Dad worked at The Queen Victoria Markets. He was a butcher and started early on Saturdays. My sister and I would spend the day with Grandma.
After an hour's drive listening to Dad's favourite 50/60’s tunes on the radio, we arrive at Grandma's house. It's an old-fashioned terrace-styled house in the city. Grandma opens the door. “Hello Jamie (that’s what she called my dad ). Come in, girls.”
We walk into the old house and stand at the fireplace in the lounge room and warm ourselves up. We walk through the old hallway to the old kitchen. Grandma makes us fried eggs on toast like she does every Saturday morning. They are the best fried eggs on buttery toast ever! Grandma makes us a cup of tea, and we sit at the table and talk about what we are going to do for the day.
After breakfast, we have to wash our dishes, and then we go into the garden and check on our strawberry plants. We each have our own plant in a pot. Grandma has a beautiful garden with carnations and vegetables.
We play in the yard for an hour or so, and then Grandma takes us for a walk down the street to the local store. Grandma buys a few supplies and buys us an ice-block (that's what we call a popsicle in Australia).
We walk back to Grandma's house, and Grandma takes us into the lounge room and gets out the photo albums. Grandma shows us photos of her parents and all her family when she was young and photos of Melbourne when she was a young girl.
Dad comes and picks us up at about 1.30 in the afternoon.
These memories are precious memories of times spent with my Grandmother. I remember the smells of her house, and I still try and cook fried eggs the same way my Grandma did.
Grandma passed away many years ago, but her love and the memories of our Saturdays spent together will live on forever and be cherished. Every time I drive past the historic terrace houses of Melbourne, I am reminded of Saturdays with Grandma Betty.
Meet Deborah Stanley ...
Hi! I'm Deborah Stanley. I was inspired to write this story about Grandma after reading "Breakfast with Grandpa by Manndi Wilkins.
I have developed a love for gardening and have a green thumb. I am sure that my Grandmother has passed that down to me .
This story triggered such fond memories of my maternal Grandma. As a child I worshipped my dear “Gran”, she was the kindest, loving human a child could wish for. I wasn’t alone in my feelings either as she was very special to all my cousins too. My Gran was born in 1907, she married at the age of 16, and went on to have 11 children. Her youngest child died as an infant, just a few months old but the rest all reached adulthood and went on to raise families of their own. My Grandparents were married for 62 years, Grandad passed in 1986 aged 82 and Gran passed in 1995 aged 88. I have often marvelled at their courage and tenacity of raising such a large family through such tough times which included World War II and the German occupation of their homeland of Guernsey in the Channel Islands. With none of the mod-cons that we have today, cooking, cleaning, washing and taking care of 10 kids must have been a challenge. My Mum was the second youngest of the 10 siblings. She often told me that despite the usual squabbles and sibling rivalry, the family were very close and supportive of each other. Goodness forbid if an outsider offended one of the family, the others would soon rush to their defense.
Gran’s house was always the hub of family get-togethers. it was rare not to find other family members there whenever you popped in for a cuppa. It’s a shame that this sense of family community is much rarer these days. I consider myself to have been truly blessed to have experienced it for a significant part of my life.
Thank you for sharing that Linda. Such beautiful memories. Did your Gran share many stories of her life under German occupation in Guernsey?
Deborah’s s story made me reminisce of my childhood where I also spent my life with grandma.She was the most. precious person that nurtured me and give a beautiful memories. Thank you so much Deborah.
My grandma is 92 and still very independent. She only lives a few streets away from me, so I pop into see her often.
The memories we have with our grandparents will be cherished forever. I can still feel the smell of my grandma’s house, as well as almost see her in the kitchen, when I close my eyes.
This is a hard one for me to read as I have very few memories of my Grandma, she died when I was 5 but it’s so lovely that these memories hold dear to the writer.
I have some great memories of my grandparents. It’s important to try to make as many good memories as you can whilst you can.
It’s lovely to have such happy childhood memories, I have happy memories of my grandparents too.
We lost my Grandma in 1998 she was like a second Mum and I still miss her to this day. My daughter has the same bond with my Mum which is so lovely. Plus now I have grandchildren and adore them and love coming to Nannys house to stay