I CONSIDER MYSELF very lucky when it comes to grandparents. I knew all four of mine from my earliest days until I was a grown adult and, as a result, have endless precious memories of them, especially the two who lived in Aberdeen.
My sister Sarah and I spent most summer holidays with Gran and Grandad and we were spoilt rotten. Anything was possible when with them. I have lost count of the number of times Sarah and I jumped into the car after pleading to be taken to Aberdeen beach whatever the weather! The four of us sat, often alone on the beach, behind the multicoloured windbreak as the wind battered us, eating sandwiches which slowly filled with sand before rushing down into the freezing North Sea to paddle. Sarah and I were absolutely in our element while Gran and Grandad looked on dutifully, wrapping us in towels when we came out of the sea, taking photos, making sure we were safe and happy and feeding us ‘99’ ice creams from the shop on the promenade.
As we grew older we started going to the fairground at the beach as well as playing in the sea. I remember my poor grandad literally turning green on the waltzers as he kept us company and looked after us as we spun endlessly around and around. My grandad was a policeman all his life and protected and cared for us every second we were with him.
My gran was born to be a gran. It was as if she stepped into the world ready for that job. She was one of those amazing natural cooks who always had flour-dusted recipe books but as far as I can remember never even so much as glanced at them as she effortlessly moved around the kitchen picking up ingredients, adding a handful here, a pinch there, a dash of something (sometimes alcoholic) and then an hour or so later the most incredible smells would filter out of the kitchen. Nobody went hungry if my gran was in the house, whether they were friends, family, strangers or pets. Or prisoners – but that’s another story! There was always a constant supply of delicious homemade goodies being pressed into your hands. One day I hope those genes will be evident in my skills in the kitchen, but I’m still waiting.
My gran could also make anything from nothing. We have great photos of Sarah and I carrying little plastic golf clubs around the garden in tartan golf bags. Golf bags made by my gran in literally not much more than half an hour after our request. No warning; no pattern: yet perfect. Everything had been thought of in their construction. They were of tartan material with the main section for the clubs, pockets for the golf balls, little elastic straps for the golf tees and shoulder straps for us to carry them around. I think somewhere Julie Andrews is kicking herself now that she didn’t think of that for the Von Trapp kids.
My gran could also talk for Britain and was forever filling you in on the details of everyone’s life in the neighbourhood and beyond. She was a dynamic, vibrant person and loved life. She loved knowing and learning things and was so proud of us as kids that I have no doubt the poor neighbours had to listen to stories of all of our achievements over and over again. I remember her telling one friend about my sister graduating from university with a first. My sister corrected her saying she hadn’t got a first but my gran waved away that slight inaccuracy as a minor detail. She deeply believed Sarah and I were capable of anything, so if we didn’t actually achieve everything that was okay, because we were still capable of it and were the best in the world to her; nothing could diminish that view of us.
Looking back now I can fully appreciate that sense of complete and unconditional love, belief and devotion given to us by both Gran and Grandad. It helped us to do things to make them even more proud, but of course they couldn’t have been any more proud of us than they already were. Our accomplishments pleased them more because they knew things like that made us happy and in the end that’s what they wanted for us – to be happy.
I remember a few years ago after Mum had been talking for hours on the phone with Gran, she came off the phone and commented how much Gran could talk, saying, ‘If I ever get like that you must tell me.’ Well, my mum is like my gran already in many wonderful ways and I can only hope that those similarities continue, because to have another person like Gran in the family is great with me. Although Mum may have to brush up on her golf-bag making skills . . .
Katherine Grainger is Britain’s most successful female rower with three Olympic silver medals and four world championship gold medals to her name. Alongside rowing she is also studying for a PhD in homicide.