Friday, 17 August 2007
@ 5.35 pm
Memories of Grandma, with love from all your grandchildren
Though the four of us are now spread around the world, wherever we go, we all carry memories of Grandma with us - the fun, the love, the dancing, the music, the art, her bedtime stories. Over the past few days we've collected a few of these between us, in the hope we can paint a picture of who Grandma was through the eyes of her grandchildren.
These are just some of the things that we remember Grandma best for...
The best chicken drumsticks in the world; mashed potatoes, carrots and peas; chocolates and sweets, hidden in the cupboard by the fridge; pink wafer ice cream sandwiches; cameo creams and chocolate chip cookies; lemonade and Sunday morning cups of tea in those brown and white teacups...
Walks to Red Cliffs for 50 cent mixtures, down the 101 steps, past Moa Cave, on to Cave Rock; walks over the peninsular, singing as we went; playing on the beach for hours while Grandma watched on...
The bed time stories! Everyone remembers the bed time stories, where she told fantastic tales of what the other pair of cousins got up to, or of our Dads and their brothers' adventures when they were young, or of her and Granddad's travels round the world...
Sunday morning BBC radio stories in Grandma and Granddad's bed, especially Flick the Little Fire Engine; Sunday evening Walt Disney TV shows lying in front of the kitsch electric fireplace; The Sound of Music; Dorris Day; Whitney Huston; The Beegees; Tiffany; the girls making Grandma watch heaps of dances choreographed by them just for her...
The yellow shag pile carpet and the immaculately clean house, including the front steps and pathway which Grandma used to sweep on sunny days; the rhythmic comforting tick tock of the grandfather clock in the living room; Waking up in the morning and sitting in front of that electric heater underneath the grandfather clock until it was sunny enough to fall asleep in the conservatory; the view from the balcony of their house, and the sound it made when you ran around it, footsteps echoing off the walls and ceiling; Christmases at the house with the whole family; catching Grandma putting Christmas presents under the tree one Christmas...
Painting watercolour scenes of banks peninsular with Grandma on wet Sunday afternoons; painting rocks in a stream bed, somewhere on Banks Peninsular on one of our walks; going through her art and playing with her old oil paints...
Visits from the Ogilvies; riding on the orange skateboard down the Ogilvies' driveway, while a worried Grandmother watched on; visits to Gran and Harry; making everyone gin and tonics...
Watching excitedly for Grandma's car to drive along the causeway on her way home from Farmers; leaving Grandma and Granddad's house on a Sunday after spending the weekend… not wanting to leave… tired and sleepy, that feeling as you turned out of the driveway with the crazy downhill dip and turn thing… looking back at the Port Hills from Ryans Road - you could almost see their house from home...
But most of all, we will never forget Grandma Bobbletree's amazing, unwavering, unconditional love for all of us, her generous spirit, her kindness and her devotion to her grandchildren.
Thank you Grandma.
