Who were your better grandparents - maternal or paternal?

I don't remember my paternal grandparents at all. My maternal grandparents were very strict. Grandfather was an army man, and I was a little scared of him . I only wish I had asked my grandmother more questions about their lives in the Army, but we were told to never ask personal
questions because it was not our business. I think there were a few scandals along the way.
 

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My paternal grandparents were loving, but low-key, quiet. They had a pretty limited income in retirement. Paternal granddad was actually my father's step dad. I admired him for being a smart, well-read parson.

My maternal granddad died when I was about four. From everything I've heard he was a good-natured rascal of some sort. My maternal grandmother was a bubbly and fun woman, maybe because she was Italian-Swiss. And too, her hubby had left her in a good financial position.
 
When I was young and they were alive, I would have said my maternal grandmother was my favorite. But from stories I heard from my mom after I was grown up and all the grandparents were deceased, probably my maternal grandmother would have been the least beloved if I had had the same amount of contact with all of them.

My maternal grandmother was a bit of a hard person, but she baked yummy bread rolls, was the only person who empathized with my shock and terror after being chased out of a field by cows, and was delightfully willing to criticize my parents with me when I was a young teen.

My maternal grandfather died when I was in first grade, I remember him as always sitting down. Also as the giver of nickels to go buy fudgesicles, and for letting me smoke the ends of his cigarettes.

I very rarely had contact with my paternal grandmother, and mostly remember her as being made up of pieces - most frightening experience of my life was having followed her into the bathroom (I was preschool age) and then seeing her take out her teeth (which was as unexpected and outside of my view of the world as if she'd taken off her head). Then some years later it was a shocking disappointment to find out that her adorable silver hair bun was just a clip on! Was there nothing real on this person?! LOL
The last time I saw her was when I was 20 and both grandmothers stayed with me for a couple days to attend my sister's wedding. She seemed like a real nice person to grown-up-me.

My paternal grandfather was a favorite at the beginning of my life, he was very good at swinging me sideways back-and-forth to a Tick-tock-goes-the-clock rhyme that I don't remember now. But by the time I was in kindergarten I found him frustrating, which much later I found out was because he wasn't right in the head since an explosion injury while he was in the army (WWI but not in battle, was helping blow up tree stumps to make a road). I guess the tick-tock rhyme was the top of his mental functioning. But his brothers were all nice, so he'd probably have been a good grandparent sans brain damage.

Sorry this is so long, it was nice thinking about my grandparents.
 

My paternal grandfather was my favorite, he was so much fun and always liked us, never angry. My maternal grandfather was nice but we didn't see him as often. Maternal grandmother died before I was born, but grandad's new wife was great. Paternal grandmother was always sick or so it seemed. She was not as nice but her illness made her that way.
 
My maternal grandparents knew about SO before my parents did. Mumsy and my paternal grand mother locked horns early on and I look like her in the face. None were dotting, funny sound making, show off. We were considered adults albeit a bit short for a while.
 
I was closest to my paternal grandparents because we lived with them until I was two and then they only lived a few miles away from us afterward. We were the only grandkids on that side.

We saw my maternal grandparents only a couple of times a year, but they were very good to us. I lived with my maternal grandmother for a year when I was in college.

They were all WONDERFUL grandparents. I loved them dearly.
 
oscash said:
I don't remember my paternal grandparents at all. My maternal grandparents were very strict. Grandfather was an army man, and I was a little scared of him . I only wish I had asked my grandmother more questions about their lives in the Army, but we were told to never ask personal
questions because it was not our business. I think there were a few scandals along the way.
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we were told the same as children don't ask adults questions, so from that we've learned very little about our grandparents.. and for that matter even our parents..
 
My middle name is from my maternal grandfather. I was his first grandson and he took me everywhere with him. He taught me to talk before I could walk.

My last name is the same as my paternal grandfather of course. He was a hard working humble man that made me proud of the name.

I owe who I am today, to a lot of people. Not the least of which are my maternal and paternal grandparents.
 
My paternal grandmother died before I was born. My paternal grandfather died when I was a year old so I don’t remember him.
I was very close with my maternal grandparents. When my grandfather died, my grandmother came to live with us. I loved her more than anyone! I think I was her favorite grandchild too. We really got along and she would take me to the ocean and buy me pretty clothes. She told me stories about the family and about growing up in the early 1900 s. She died when I was in my 20 s. I still miss her and think about her often.
 
Olivia said:
l didn't have grandparents per se, only two grand mothers that were distant emotionally. MY two grandfathers died young, one at forty and one at fifty-two.
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l forgot about someone so extremely important in my life. That was my great grandmother. Mother of my mother's father. She took care of me since my birth and up to when l turned 3 years old and she delivered me by train to my mother and brother--and waited until the last minute when we left Europe. l never saw her again.
 
Due to WW 11 the parents moved from the south to the North and later dissolved.
I spent time with both grandparents at their homes. My Grannies were awesome but
I went home feeling uncomfortable. Gram paws were so preoccupied with stuff!
They did things like listen to big wooden radio things and then a TV b&w. They were
always so busy doing things on their farms. I mostly played with pets. They were nice.
 
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My paternal grandparents were part of our extended family. They lived upstairs in a two flat. I only knew my maternal grandmother, her husband long dead before I was born. She was a sweet woman, but I very seldom saw her, so I'm not in a position to pick who was better. And even though all of those people are gone, naming which ones were better feels like a betrayal. Thankfully, I don't have enough information to do that, anyway, so I'm still OK.
 
I never knew my maternal grandfather. I loved my maternal GM dearly, but she'd had a very hard growing-up life and wasn't a warm, cuddly GM. She died when I was 18

My dad's parents were more effusive, always offering hugs, food, candy and other treats. They lived until I was in my 30s, but by then I'd moved 3000 miles away and saw them only rarely.

I have fond memories of all three grandparents.
 
Both of my grandfathers were deceased by the time I was born. And, my paternal grandmother was old, very old it seemed like. My father would get calls telling him that she had walked off again and they couldn't find her. This was before alzheimers/dementia came to light and was given the name.

So my time was spent w/my maternal grandmother and I would hang out and play in our family bakery next door to her house.
 
oscash said:
I don't remember my paternal grandparents at all. My maternal grandparents were very strict. Grandfather was an army man, and I was a little scared of him . I only wish I had asked my grandmother more questions about their lives in the Army, but we were told to never ask personal
questions because it was not our business. I think there were a few scandals along the way.
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The scandals are the most fun, wouldn't you agree? Something to aspire to top, no?
 
Interesting topic, and worth some introspection. I would say paternal but there are some caveats.

My paternal grandmother was an awful, hateful woman who used to put scary thoughts in my head, but my paternal grandfather was a good man (at least later in life). He used to make pies and cakes and deliver them to neighbors. He used to take me with him on painting gigs after he retired.

My maternal grandmother died when I was a child. She was a great person. My maternal grandfather was a manipulator who turned all his kids against one another. He married a woman 20 years his junior and absolutely wore her out taking care of him prior to his passing. She was a nice but backward woman and I never felt like she was my grandmother. She seemed more like a "hostess" at family gatherings.

My maternal grandfather did take me on car trips when I was a teenager and attended my father's funeral when he was barely able to walk up the hill to the gravesite, so I'll give him that.
 
My mom would tell me stories about my Gram playing the piano and my grandfather tap dancing. She said they were polar opposites, she being a straight laced tea totaler who played piano in church and worked cleaning houses, him being a non-worker, drifting from job to job and a drinker.

She said they loved each other, though, and were never mean to each other and were always on the same team.
 
So..... folks , after all the good and the bad about our grandparents, who do you look like.. whose genes have you mostly inherited ?

I have inherited the looks of my maternal grandmother...the horrible old harridan that she was... thankfully not her personality
 
hollydolly said:
So..... folks , after all the good and the bad about our grandparents, who do you look like.. whose genes have you mostly inherited ?

I have inherited the looks of my maternal grandmother...the horrible old harridan that she was... thankfully not her personality
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I look like my father. I never met him until I was 33.

He was working on a crossword puzzle, left handed, and had a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table.

It explained a lot.
 
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