Grandparents

What are your favourite “Grandparent” memories? I loved visiting my Grandparents. My Dad’s parents lived on a small farm a few miles west of our farm. Their farmyard included a barn, corrals, chicken house, tool shed, outer buildings and of course the “outhouse”. I wouldn’t have noticed as a kid but thinking about it later, I realized they lived in an old house that had seen better days. I will always remember its worn edges that were softened by the warmth and activity that always filled its rooms and the land surrounding it.

My Grandmother was of German descent and had a thick accent which I adored. Her speech carried the rhythm of another place and time, making ordinary words feel special. She expressed her disapproval with a frown and commented, “Such tings” a phrase that always made me smile. I loved the way she talked but I’m sorry to say that I never asked her many questions about her growing up years. She was beautiful with her round, full-figure and neatly waved snow-white hair. She always wore a dress with a clean pressed apron wrapped generously around her waist. It seemed to be perfect for baking bread and peeling potatoes, hanging clothes on the line with wooden clothes pins tucked deep into her pockets, or working in the garden. The apron, like a shield, kept her dress spotless no matter the work. She never seemed frazzled or tired; even after a day’s labor, she appeared fresh at the supper table. I don’t remember her ever reading a story to us, but we would snuggle with her in the big chair and sometimes she would single us out to have a visit. She split her time between the kitchen and the garden, loving both. She had a beautiful smile; a smile I continue to recognize through four generations of our family. I remember the cleanest cream separator I’ve ever seen in Grandma’s kitchen. She took meticulous care with it: every stainless-steel disc and the safety pin that held them together were carefully washed, scalded, and hung to dry right there in the kitchen. Neat, white tea towels always hung on a small rack, a symbol of her commitment to cleanliness and order. The kitchen itself always seemed to carry a delightful aroma. It might have been the smell of the wood burning cook stove combined with the baking of bread, simmering pots, and the faint sweetness of cinnamon or almond. It was a place where comfort and nourishment went hand in hand.

She is especially remembered for her cakes, lavishly decorated with shredded coconut. It was so exciting to see what delicious delights she would offer whether it was coffee time or dessert at mealtime. Those memories invite the comfort and joy of family gatherings.

My Grandfather was a big portly man and talked lots and was funny, with a quick wit that kept us kids entertained. One of his most distinguishing features was his little round glasses. He’d peer at us over their rims with a twinkle in his eye, sometimes making faces to make us giggle. When he picked us up, we knew what was coming, the famous whisker rub. It was his special way of showing affection; a prickly brush of his rough cheek against ours that always made us laugh, even while we tried (and failed) to escape.

They had a mixed farm, and it was a busy place. There were cows to milk, chickens to feed, fields to tend, and outbuildings brimming with the tools and treasures of everyday rural life. It was never quiet for long, but my Grandpa seemed to thrive amidst all the activity. Later on, they moved just down the road to the newly renovated (and recently closed) Fenham schoolhouse which would be their new home, yard and new barnyard. What remains most vivid, though, is the feeling of safety and belonging that surrounded my Grandpa. Whether he was telling a joke, working with the horses, or bustling about the farmyard, he was the heart of the family. Grandma depended on him and he was a man whose laughter, kindness, and strength made a lasting mark on all of us.