Grandmothers give a gift to their grandchildren that is precious beyond any price. Watching my Gramma and then my mother as they gracefully aged gave me a window to my own future self. Treasured forever.
Lovely writing - I’m glad you have such a tangible connection to your nana. I feel like I have so many questions for mine that will always remain unanswered now. My grandfather died tragically young and he was always a painful subject for Nan so I was never able to ask her about him.
My husband treasures an actual, now dried and pressed and semi-transparent poppy from Flanders - one that fell from a bullet whizzing by his grandfather while he took cover in the field.
Grandfather George put it in his notebook (which strictly speaking troops were not allowed to have). It is colourless and very fragile now, but has lasted as long as our memory of George, a lot to ask of a single bloom.
Wow, that touches my heart. My nana was a treasure I never understood until I was a mother, and she was 20 years gone by then. I have a photo of her taken by a photographer in the street, as they did in the 1930's. A jaunty young woman with mischief in her eyes - my mother's eyes. Before the disastrous marriage that caused her and her children so much pain. But the poppies... she lost two of her three brothers to the First World War. One died of wounds in France and one of the Spanish flu that followed. He's been in my mind during our pandemic. Her father was Irish and she is undoubtedly responsible for the fey streak in myself and my older child. Both those brothers came to her in dreams to say goodbye the night they passed. Hold Nana in your heart as she is still holding you. I have to say that both Nana and Mum are still my go-to for finding lost items. The connections are never lost, and when your boys are older they might feel them.
Your story brought back such special memories of my own amazing maternal Grandmother. She raised three children on her own before and during WW2. I try to be like her with our own grandchildren, she set such a wonderful example ☺️
I love how you talk about your Nana. I loved my Nana… she was everything. Warm, safe, funny and everything a nana should be. I miss her every day. Thank you for sharing that x
That's so lovely. You're very lucky to have had such a loving Nana. They sound special. The one Nana I had was not very loving (not unloving, just not loving). But I have a loving mother and my husband has a loving mother, so now our two babies have two loving Nanas each and it makes me so happy!
Grandmothers give a gift to their grandchildren that is precious beyond any price. Watching my Gramma and then my mother as they gracefully aged gave me a window to my own future self. Treasured forever.
..and to become a granny is a wonderful and joyful experience..❤️
Nana’s are so special. I can only hope to be half as special to my granddaughter as mine was to me
This is beautiful Emily.
Lovely writing - I’m glad you have such a tangible connection to your nana. I feel like I have so many questions for mine that will always remain unanswered now. My grandfather died tragically young and he was always a painful subject for Nan so I was never able to ask her about him.
Heart words ♥️
Love it. Thank you.
Beautiful ❤️
My husband treasures an actual, now dried and pressed and semi-transparent poppy from Flanders - one that fell from a bullet whizzing by his grandfather while he took cover in the field.
Grandfather George put it in his notebook (which strictly speaking troops were not allowed to have). It is colourless and very fragile now, but has lasted as long as our memory of George, a lot to ask of a single bloom.
Wow, that touches my heart. My nana was a treasure I never understood until I was a mother, and she was 20 years gone by then. I have a photo of her taken by a photographer in the street, as they did in the 1930's. A jaunty young woman with mischief in her eyes - my mother's eyes. Before the disastrous marriage that caused her and her children so much pain. But the poppies... she lost two of her three brothers to the First World War. One died of wounds in France and one of the Spanish flu that followed. He's been in my mind during our pandemic. Her father was Irish and she is undoubtedly responsible for the fey streak in myself and my older child. Both those brothers came to her in dreams to say goodbye the night they passed. Hold Nana in your heart as she is still holding you. I have to say that both Nana and Mum are still my go-to for finding lost items. The connections are never lost, and when your boys are older they might feel them.
Your story brought back such special memories of my own amazing maternal Grandmother. She raised three children on her own before and during WW2. I try to be like her with our own grandchildren, she set such a wonderful example ☺️
I love how you talk about your Nana. I loved my Nana… she was everything. Warm, safe, funny and everything a nana should be. I miss her every day. Thank you for sharing that x
A lovely piece.
A great poem. Not a war poem. Just a few words about mostly young people.
My uncle lies in Flanders Field.
I have his picture at home. It hung in the bedroom I shared with my brothers when we were children. Many years ago.
Thank you Emily.
That's so lovely. You're very lucky to have had such a loving Nana. They sound special. The one Nana I had was not very loving (not unloving, just not loving). But I have a loving mother and my husband has a loving mother, so now our two babies have two loving Nanas each and it makes me so happy!
Just what I needed today, thank you ♥️