B holding The Saint at 6 weeks
B was definitely NOT one of those grey-haired grannies who play bingo and wear sensible shoes.
She was all glitz and glamour.
Her hair was always in place. Full make-up worn , every day. We went on holiday with her to Florida once and I remember even on the beach she whipped out an Estee Lauder lipstick and lovingly re-applied it.
She wore beautiful, expensive, perfume. She worked in fashion and her clothes were always elegant. She loved shoes, handbags and diamonds.
Her cooking was cordon bleu and she cleaned like a pro – often vacuuming twice a day and even polishing the pipes on her boiler!
Best of all she loved a drink. Gin mainly. We used to have such a laugh.
When the boys arrived she really came into her own.
Granny B and her boys
She was BEST Granny EVER!
For Christmas and birthdays she gave them things like fart machines, whoopie cushions and pooing reindeer (chocolate poo!).
When we visited, goodies would constantly appear from her “treats cupboard”, in spite of my protests that they’d had enough sugar/chocolate/sweets and were already pinging off the walls.
“Oh let me spoil them a little” she would laugh.
They ran riot in her house, with her rolling around on the floor with them. The Saint and I used to watch through our fingers, fearing for the ornaments.
Right up until she got sick she still went on our trampoline with them. I loved watching the three of them laughing hysterically, with her telling them not to bounce to hard or “I might wee myself”!
My boys adored her and she adored them.
Most importantly, she was the only grandparent to acknowledge Boy Wonder’s diagnosis and the impact it had on The Saint and I. She may not have understood everything, but I appreciated the thought behind each newspaper clipping or book recommendation she sent me.
You would never know it, but B had a hard life, full of disappointment and grief. Her grace and dignity during those horrendous times was inspiring.
I think of her often. Lippy on, hair done, head held high. I can see her smiling and saying to me “You’ve just got to “KBO* haven’t you?”
Happy Birthday, B. We love you.
*KBO- Keep Buggering On (a maxim from Churchill)