For some reason lately I’ve been thinking about my Nanna. I don’t know why.
My Nanna was my Dad’s mum and she died about seven (ish) years ago aged 84. Towards the end she was in a nursing home because she had dementia and could no longer care for herself.
I only ever knew one set of Grandparents and I adored both my Grandad and Nanna. But my Nanna is more prominent in my memories. She and Grandad lived in Hove near Brighton and we use to spend a lot of time there when we were children. I loved Brighton. It was always my dream to move there. I was going to buy a Citroën 2CV and marry an artist or a sculptor and live in Brighton. Well that was my dream when I was 17.
My Nanna use to do a lot of baking and I often wish I’d taken more notice when she tried to teach us how to cook and bake. She was a very good baker. She liked to listen to Stevie Wonder in the kitchen while she was baking. We played I Just Called to Say I Love You at her funeral.
I know she frustrated my Dad a lot. She was daft sometimes, interfered and would insist on dressing my sister and I in girly frocks when my parents wanted us in jeans and dungarees.
My Nanna adored her family. She was one of seven siblings and she was probably the only one who gave so much to her family. She would regularly babysit for her sisters and was always doing things for her family. At her funeral one of her nephews told me that he was so jealous of my Dad and uncle that they had parents like my Nanna and Grandad.
My mum never really wears makeup but my Nanna did and always looked lovely. When I was a child I’d watch her put her makeup on and do her nails. I wish she had been here to see me at my wedding.
She was so very proud of my sister and I. She loved us very much. She use to tell us stories of her childhood, when she met Grandad and when she was in the Women’s Royal Air Force during World War 2.
I believe she would have loved Sam. She would have been overjoyed that she had two great-granddaughters but I know Samuel would have won her heart. She would have done everything she could for him.She would have really enjoyed how cuddly he is and even though she was always very smart and well dressed (I only ever saw her in trousers on a Friday when it was housework day), it wouldn’t have stopped her getting on the floor to play with him (if her old bones allowed) or give him a good squeeze.
My Nanna’s name was Olive May and I miss her.