Granny Jane

My darling granny passed away a week ago today, peacefully and gracefully and with strength. The same way as she lived. Her name was Jane or granny Janey as I called her. Born in 1936 she was the eldest of four children. As a teenager she was one of the very last debutantes to see the Queen at a ball before the tradition ended.  She loved books, working first when she was a young woman living in London as a librarian and eventually owning her own book shop, the Halcyon. Her house was always overflowing with literature which was one of the earliest smells of my childhood. Its not hard to find the route of my love of reading, books have passed from her to my mum to me for as long as I can remember. We are inorexably linked by a long line of varied fictional characters.

 

She was also an avid lover of art of all descriptions and a frequenter of galleries all her adult life. Always popping up to London for one exhibition or another, she would send us postcards of things she thought we would appreciate or things that reminded her of us. During lockdown she sent my kids cards and newspaper cuttings of funny things. She never missed a birthday even with 8 grandchildren and 8 great grandchildren!  

 Granny Janie loved horses, when I was 10 she dragged me along with her on a hack. She assumed that as her granddaughter I should have an intuitive ability with horses (I did not!) But I was just so delighted to be inexpertly bouncing along on an adventure with her that it didn't matter! She was incredibly adventurous and in her seventies she and a friend rode across the Jordan Desert on Arabian horses, in what sounded like a completely mad but wonderful experience.    

 She never seemed to stereotypically fit the box of what a 'grandmotherly' person might be, she sailed well into her retirement, they would charter yaughts, and we would skinny dip in the warm Turkish sea. Her and grandpa would show us all how the sailing should be done (generally whilst I vomited over the side of the vessel!)  

 She was unfailingly kind, and was committed for almost 4 decades to Hartfield village church. She was very loved there and always a driving force for change and hope. She adored tennis and played twice a week in the village right up until she fell ill. Swimming was another of her joys. I learnt to swim at Little Tye, their house where they were lucky enough to have a beautiful open air pool. She was rocking a bikini well into her sixties, always looking sensational with unbelievable long legs that sadly missed my genetic line!

When I'm stressed or sad, that is the place I go to in my head. I can still smell the flowers that grew by the pool and feel the heat from the sun on my back, water on my face, bundled up in a towel on the swing seat. My parents were married from that house and 28 years later so was I. On a wet August day, I stepped into my wedding dress in her bedroom, three generations of us standing together, surrounded by the smell of her perfume next to her dressing table covered in photos. 

 At Little Tye granny would bring a teapot down to the poolside, always a mix with Earl Grey and those biscuits that are more chocolate than anything else. The taste of Earl Grey will always be synonymous with her for me. I can't express how much joy and wonder my grandmother brought into my life in the time that I was blessed to know her. She has given us all so very much. She shared my little brothers obsession with Tennis. She would get tickets for Wimbledon through her club and take him with her. To my older brother she gave a love of gardening and the Great British historical houses. This postcard from her has been in my bedside table all year.

In the end after a short but ferocious illness granny made a decision to not live a life hampered by permenant dialysis. Right to the end she was strong and in control of her own fate. She leaves behind a legacy of love, a life well lived and death defeated through her faith in Jesus. I am so greatful to have known her and been shaped by her many passions and delights and we will all miss her enormously.