Good grief. What an extraordinary milestone we celebrated this weekend.
My maternal Grandmother was 100 years old yesterday.
Born 13th October 1913.
A year before the First World War started.
I can’t quite get my head around that.
Sadly, she wasn’t able to wallow in family admiration. She’s in a home and has frankly lost her marbles. Every time we discussed her birthday, tried to get her to blow out candles, eat cake, open cards, she discussed the merits of planting beans and how far apart they had to be and what sort of blotting paper you’d need and where to put them afterwards. She spent more time talking to the very large teddy at the end of the bed than us. But never mind. You never know, maybe on some level she understood and was aware that she was surrounded by family.
Here are the four generations of women in our family:-
My youngest made her a splendid cake and they all helped decorate it:-
The care home where she lives decorated the front door and her room:-
AND she got her birthday card from the Queen!!
and here she is with my three children – amazing:-