My Grandmother was frustrating at times

Bretrick

Bretrick

Well-known Member
Location
Perth Western Australia
Everyone here had them.
Grandparents. I only ever knew my Grandmother.
Most of us look back on them with affection. I cried at my Grandmothers passing.
She was such a sweet lady. She did have an acerbic streak, but only when provoked.
Remember those sayings that used to come from their mouths?
Sayings that left me, as an unknowing child, wondering, "What does that mean"?

The cat can look at the Queen
If Johnny told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it? My response to this was, " "Who's Johnny "? :unsure:
What's good for the goose is good for the gander. huh?
You would forget your head if it was not screwed on. I had nightmares about this. :eek:
I'm sure it was only a lick and a promise.
Who's got a bee in their bonnet then?
I'll give you what for.

I look back on these times in awe and a little frustration.
So much could have been learnt if things were explained to us.
My dad frustrated me the most.
When he was venturing out somewhere I would very often ask him,
"Where you going, Dad" ?
He always replied,
"I'm going to see a man about a dog."
I was so excited thinking we were getting a dog.
We never got a dog. 🐶
 

Those old sayings were something else. I, too, wondered what the heck some of them meant. My mother would say the one about the "lick and a promise" I just would draw a blank with that and many others too. I never even thought to ask what any of them meant. You were ahead of me on that.

I had 2 grandmothers. One was from Hungary and the other from Czechoslovakia as it was called back then. My Slovak grandmother was bedridden for quite awhile and much of the time I knew her. She spoke very, very little English. She did say a few very nice things and I loved her. My grandmother from Hungary spoke English well. She was a bit cantankerous but had a lot of good qualities also. She was always cooking us up some very good food! I believe my mother learned to cook from her. They were both great cooks.

This holiday season seems to get me thinking of my family who have passed. It's sort of sad but recalling the good memories helps a lot. 💓
 
Frustrating? One of my grandmothers died when I was very young and the other one was very dark. She used to hold me on her lap and tell me that I would die when I would be drafted into war. Yes, this is absolutely true. Of course, she was diagnosed with dementia in her later years. I was fortunate enough to have both my grandfathers, who took me everywhere with them and showed me love. Twisted, I know, but that was my childhood.
 

My grandfather was a character. He called his wife, "my woman". He insisted that when the bad guys were killed in westerns, they were actually killed-dead. He used to yell at the TV News ( which is something I've been increasingly doing), saying they were liars. He always referred to cars as "machines". His first language was French (French Canadian), and he spoke with a French accent- both my grandparents did. Traveling to Montreal, when I hear that accent, it reminds me of them. I still remember the day my grandmother found out that all her daughters didn't bake their own bread, she wanted to know "what the hell they did all day then?' She always had a garden. We're not talking little patch- quarter acre, at least. She had diabetes, 70+, and lost her legs. She still had her garden, from a wheelchair.
 
Never met my grandmothers. One died when my mom was twelve (during WWII), and my father's mother died when I was a baby. My mom said she loved me very much and would hold me all the time. The only grandparent I knew was my mother's father. He looked like Maurice Chevalier, and was tall and had a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, and he lived to be a ripe old age of 90. He moved back to the island after he retired, and there he had a garden up on a hill. He grew banana trees and mandarins, and lots of vegetables there. And when we visited him, he'd have us working in the garden helping him water, etc. When he'd walk down the hill, his pockets would be filled with mandarins or a vegetable or two, and he'd give them to people on his way down to his house. He loved people, and would always invite someone over for dinner.
 
3 of my 4 grandparents emigrated from the Ukraine. I visited Odessa once and understood why they left. I spent a lot of time with them, and they all passed away when I was in my 20's or 30's.
 

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