Lorna Elizabeth Johnston
On Sunday morning at around 11.35, my Gran passed away. If you know me well, you will know how incredibly difficult and painful this is for me, and it's made worse by the fact she was the one person who always knew what to say to make things better.
Those of you who were lucky enough to have met her, and those of you who maybe never got to meet her but have undoubtedly had to listen to me rabbit on about her for years- you will know a little about her kindness, her generosity, and maybe a little about her life story. I don't think any one person could ever know and understand everything about my Gran and her life; in some ways that was one of the best things about her. She had literally hundreds of friends and acquaintances that she would see and speak to on a regular basis, all of whom knew my gran from different times in her life, and from all activities her schedule was packed out with. She would often talk endlessly about all of these people none of us had ever heard of, and she'd refer to them all by their full names (a trait I've accidentally inherited). She had such a great way of keeping friends for ever and it was so easy to lose track of time talking away with her about, well, anything and everything! I'm never going to do her the justice she deserves in just a blog post (I'm pretty sure a four thousand page novel couldn't do her justice in my eyes) but if you wouldn't mind I'd like to tell you a little bit about her from my perspective.
When I was little, probably about 3 or 4 years old, my sister decided to take it upon herself to sell me to my Gran. I can't remember the exact amount she decided I was worth, but I believe it was about five pounds. She wrote out a receipt and everything, and it wouldn't at all surprise me if it's still somewhere in her house. So yeah, technically I've always belonged to my Gran, and even though it was just a bit of silly fun, I quite like that.
My sister and I used to stay at her house on a regular basis. We were tough work, and we must have driven her mad! After a long battle to get us to sleep at night, we would always wake up to a cuddle, cornflakes, orange juice and a dippy egg with soldiers for breakfast. She would get us up early to have this so it wouldn't be too close to elevenses, at which point we would have a KitKat or Blue Riband and a hot drink (naturally).
On Sundays we would go through to her Church and then all go to her house for a Sunday Dinner. She would always be the last to sit down at the table, endlessly faffing about to make sure everyone else was catered for. There was always a great pudding- usually strawberry jelly, or rhubarb or apple from her garden (with the obligatory custard that only she could make perfectly using custard powder). Then we'd stay all day until tea time so we could have leftover chicken or Red Leicester cheese in a sandwich with real butter and ketchup (from a glass bottle!).
When I was in junior school, my Gran would come and pick me up from school on a Tuesday and we would get the bus back to her house. Sometimes if it was a nice day we would walk and we'd go via the park opposite my school or the graveyard behind it. When we got home she would let me watch cartoons while she made our tea, and then while we ate we would switch over to Channel 4 to watch Countdown (and obviously play along ourselves). Tuesday tea was always my favourite meal of the week. We'd always have some kind of breaded poultry or pizza, with potato smileys or croquettes and spaghetti hoops.
Then there was cakes! She always had a full box of cakes in the kitchen. Fruit loaf, apple pies, Battenburg, angel cakes, home made Victoria sponge, butterfly buns, cherry bakewells and fondant fancies!
Something my Gran and I really bonded over when I was younger was our love of the TV show 'Robot Wars'. Every time it was on she would call me up and say "Charlotte, are you watching the Wars?", and then she'd call me back after it had finished so we could discuss all of the best bits! Her favourite competing robot was Chaos II and her favourite house robot was Matilda. (For any of you that are interested, my favourite was Hypnodisc).
This became a regular thing with many other competition shows. She loved Strictly Come Dancing ("the Dancing", as she would call it), she quite enjoyed X-Factor when there was north-eastern people on it ("the Singing"), and above everything else for her whole life she absolutely loved football.
She also loved Morcambe and Wise, The Two Ronnies, Open All Hours, 'Allo 'Allo and the Likely Lads.
She also loved Morcambe and Wise, The Two Ronnies, Open All Hours, 'Allo 'Allo and the Likely Lads.
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| Proudly holding her Sunderland AFC card for Mother's Day and a bowl of stewed apple and custard. |
Generosity really was the very essence of of my Gran, and
she was forever doing things for other people. If she wasn't
contributing or organising at a church meeting, or a Townswomens' Guild
meeting, or one of the other numerous groups she belonged to, she would
probably be at home making things. Every year she would make several
shoebox presents for the Christmas shoebox appeal, and she'd literally
buy, collect and make things all year just to go in them. She'd
knit hats and scarves and all sorts, and then she'd even help with the
sorting and sending of the boxes from the church collection points!
She'd knit little characters to be sold at church fairs, and one of my
favourite things at her house when I was growing up was the Snow White
and all seven dwarves she'd knitted just for fun (impressive, no?).
She'd also make cakes galore, and soups and sandwiches for Church
events. She'd even help in the kitchen to make teas and wash up after
everybody.
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| Just one of my Gran's many, many talents. |
When we were in the hospital at the weekend, there was a book my mum had bought my Gran for Christmas. It was an annual book that my mum would get her every Christmas, I think it's called the Friendship Book, which features a quote or story for each day of the year. There was one quote in it that I think is just so apt, so fitting for my Gran's life; "What seems to grow fairer to me as life goes by is the love, grace and tenderness of it; not its wit, cleverness and grandeur of knowledge... just the laughter of little children, and the friendship of friends, and cosy talks by the fireside, and the sight of flowers, and the sound of music."
My Gran took great pleasure in music, and I know that my passion for music has come directly from her and my Grandad. She loved flowers, and always had a beautiful garden. Since I moved to Leeds she would send me regular cards, usually with some lovely flowers on, and usually containing "a little something to help with the phone bill", or a cheque for a ridiculous amount "for a cup of tea". She was so, so, so considerate and generous, she couldn't bare the thought of having any of her family left wanting for anything. If you tried to deny anything she wanted to give you, you could end up in an argument with her and she would always win! Quite a talent, really, when you can argue that £40 is what you need for a coffee and actually win that argument!
Having been a teacher for most of her life, she was an incredibly intelligent and patient woman. She would talk to everyone as if she'd known them forever. I used to be a little embarrassed whenever I went anywhere with her because she'd always be telling people things that she thought was interesting, and it was rare that anyone else shared her enthusiasm. As I grew older, though, my feelings about this soon changed and instead of being embarrassed, I'd find myself getting annoyed at people when they acted like they couldn't spare a few minutes of their day to listen to some of the things she had to say. It's a shame for them, really, because they will certainly never experience even half of the things my Gran has, and a lot of the amazing stories and little glimpses into the past that people like her could offer will be lost soon. It's living history, and it's so easy to take our lives for granted without giving gratitude or even a thought to people like her who were so courageous and strong in just living their daily lives.
When my Gran was 17 years old in 1941, a bomb fell on her house instantly killing her mother and her father died from his injuries later that night. She herself was severely injured, being blasted out of her neighbour's bomb shelter and pinned down by some debris. It's no wonder, really, that the absolute most important things to my gran were her family and her family's health. She had so many stories about her family, her two aunties and uncle who took her in, and her parents and what they had done for her to get her to college. It's truly inspirational, and she showed us the greatest example of what family means. She was never bitter, nor did she ever complain about anything in her life. She added her great friends to our family (most of whom I just had always presumed actually were related to us!), and ensured that we all knew we were part of this bigger picture. She gave time and patience to everyone, listening and learning everything she could about their lives so she could add things to her list of things to be thankful for. She was just immensely proud of her family, and her life, and I don't think she ever gave herself the credit she deserved for being the glue that held it all together.
My Gran took great pleasure in music, and I know that my passion for music has come directly from her and my Grandad. She loved flowers, and always had a beautiful garden. Since I moved to Leeds she would send me regular cards, usually with some lovely flowers on, and usually containing "a little something to help with the phone bill", or a cheque for a ridiculous amount "for a cup of tea". She was so, so, so considerate and generous, she couldn't bare the thought of having any of her family left wanting for anything. If you tried to deny anything she wanted to give you, you could end up in an argument with her and she would always win! Quite a talent, really, when you can argue that £40 is what you need for a coffee and actually win that argument!
Having been a teacher for most of her life, she was an incredibly intelligent and patient woman. She would talk to everyone as if she'd known them forever. I used to be a little embarrassed whenever I went anywhere with her because she'd always be telling people things that she thought was interesting, and it was rare that anyone else shared her enthusiasm. As I grew older, though, my feelings about this soon changed and instead of being embarrassed, I'd find myself getting annoyed at people when they acted like they couldn't spare a few minutes of their day to listen to some of the things she had to say. It's a shame for them, really, because they will certainly never experience even half of the things my Gran has, and a lot of the amazing stories and little glimpses into the past that people like her could offer will be lost soon. It's living history, and it's so easy to take our lives for granted without giving gratitude or even a thought to people like her who were so courageous and strong in just living their daily lives.
When my Gran was 17 years old in 1941, a bomb fell on her house instantly killing her mother and her father died from his injuries later that night. She herself was severely injured, being blasted out of her neighbour's bomb shelter and pinned down by some debris. It's no wonder, really, that the absolute most important things to my gran were her family and her family's health. She had so many stories about her family, her two aunties and uncle who took her in, and her parents and what they had done for her to get her to college. It's truly inspirational, and she showed us the greatest example of what family means. She was never bitter, nor did she ever complain about anything in her life. She added her great friends to our family (most of whom I just had always presumed actually were related to us!), and ensured that we all knew we were part of this bigger picture. She gave time and patience to everyone, listening and learning everything she could about their lives so she could add things to her list of things to be thankful for. She was just immensely proud of her family, and her life, and I don't think she ever gave herself the credit she deserved for being the glue that held it all together.
I could literally go on for forever about my Gran. I have so much more I want to say about her, and so many things I want to talk to her and tell her about. It's the strangest thing when the phone rings and it's not her, and it's so sad to me that I can't just call her up and tell her about why I'm feeling so sad. She would be able to tell just from the way I said hello that i wasn't okay, and she'd say "Come on lovie, tell me what's happened". She would just listen to everything I had to whinge on about and then she'd say something to put everything back into perspective, and something comforting to help me feel better about it. If she was ever disgruntled about something, she would simply say it's a "bally nuisance", and have done with it. Well, Gran, this is a bally nuisance. It's a bally nuisance that this has to be a part of life. It's a bally nuisance that you're not here any more. But I just want you to know that I'm so very grateful for teaching me how to be a good person. You taught me how to love my family and my friends, and how to treat people with kindness. You taught me that there is so much to be gained from enjoying simple things like lovely paintings, a nice view of the sea, great music, and stories shared with friends. You have every right to be so proud of your life and your achievements, and you've left behind so many people who loved you so dearly, who now have a huge hole that nobody else could ever fill. I know you knew I love you very much, Gran, and I'm just so happy and glad that I lucked up and had you as a role-model.
I think the most fitting way to end this is to leave you with this, one of her most favourite songs. It's just my Gran in a song. All together now...
