Family, Grandparents

Gran’s Scent Was a Mix of Chanel N°5 and Cigarettes

I am so very glad Mum had those years loving my children and in turn they were blessed to have her as their Gran

This year has been a difficult one. At the start of the summer, my partner unexpectedly needed open-heart surgery. It was classed as a life-saving operation, and I feared I may lose him.

When he first went into hospital, my body decided I needed to sleep, and for over a week I could hardly keep awake. I think sometimes your mind takes control and tries to protect you.

When I eventually managed to stand upright for more than a few hours, I cried a lot — mainly when feeding the crows in the evening. Then my Mum took over. Which was nice of her since she’s been dead for twelve years. We’d meet in my mind's eye or dreams.

I’ve missed my Mum ever since she passed, although during this last year the feeling has been especially intense.

She never failed to support and help me when I had problems. And recently I felt her presence while I surfed the latest big scary wave. Often it seemed almost as if she was walking beside me. I am sure somehow she was listening to my thoughts.

Thankfully — my prayers — or whatever you want to call them, were answered, and my partner is now well on the way to recovery.

Yet still I feel my Mum close…

Mum adopted me when I was a baby, and in her own unique way she was the best guardian a person like me could have. Instead of dictating, she explained. She never judged, but made sure to ask. Then, she listened.

Don’t get me wrong, when I was growing up our relationship wasn’t always as sweet as cherry pie, but she was consistently emotionally available for me.

When my children joined the family, Mum really excelled at being a Grandma. She had boundless patience and great enthusiasm for her new role.

From the moment my first baby was born, Mum would travel 30 miles by train to where we lived — and look after her on a Friday. She did this every week until my daughter attended preschool when she was nearly 4 years old.

By that time, often my daughter would stay over with her for the weekend. They adored each other.

When my second child was born, Mum insisted she do exactly the same for her.

The wonderful thing was she didn’t simply stay at my house or hers and care for the girls. She took them out — to the cathedral or art centre and to small, quaint cafés. On these trips they learned so much about history and also how to behave when outside in public places. Mine were never those screaming kids you wanted to strangle! They learned manners from a young age.

Mum was classy and glamorous. She always put on makeup and wore a skirt and stockings! This was mainly due to the era she grew up in. Then, when other women took to wearing tights, she decided it was more comfortable with a suspender belt. (Also, it’s known that stockings are hygienic as they allow for breathability, by not trapping heat and moisture in the way tights do.)

My kids were fascinated with her outfits. Eventually she put together a box of clothes, which provided many hours of dressing up fun and imaginary games for them. At the time, I remember some of my friends mentioning their children were never keen on visiting the grandparents. Which is a real shame as I believe youngsters have so much to gain by spending time with older people. With me, it was the opposite — mine couldn't wait to see their Gran.

Often in the summer, after the kids finished school, I would travel up to where she lived, and we would take a picnic tea over to the park.

During one of these outings, we spoke about her age, and the fact she would most likely not be alive to see my girls settle down. It was then it really hit home… one day Mum would die. I wasn’t ready to think about that prospect and put it out of my mind.

I definitely think Mum and I grew closer when she became a Gran. At that time, I couldn’t even have imagined family life without her being a significant part of it.

I won’t go into detail about her death. I don’t expect she wanted to die as she loved life, but I know she was ready.

My daughters were ten and fourteen. I am so very glad Mum had those years loving my children, and in turn they were blessed to have her as their Gran.

My youngest — the actress — wrote Mum’s eulogy and proudly stood at the front of the congregation to read it out, along with a poem about how gentle my Mum was when she brushed my daughter’s long curly hair.

There wasn’t many dry eyes as we finished with some of Mum’s favourite songs by Neil Diamond.

A few weeks later, my girls helped me sort through Mum’s things, and both of them kept the bits and pieces which had figured within their life with her. The three of us loved the scarves in particular. She had a massive collection, which smelled of her.*

My eldest daughter said —

“Gran’s scent was a mixture of Chanel N°5 and cigarettes…”

Suddenly it dawned on me — the incredible woman, who I’d called Mum, had been an even more amazing figure to my children — their beloved Gran.

*I have kept Mum’s scarves in a suitcase, and they still have her distinctive smell, all these years later. I find this strange yet very comforting.

Wishing all you wonderful readers and writers — particularly those I love (you know who you are) — a wonderful Christmas.

Make sure you give a Grandma a special Xmas hug.

Here is a story about my Mum’s Mum — my Gran: