What were your grandparents like?

My memories of my grandparents are very mixed as both my grandfathers had died before I was born. Fred Burslem had died in 1939 and Fred Duck had died in January 1941 just five months before my birth in June. My grandmothers were the only grandparents I knew and when I think about it it was Little Nana who I knew best. I don't know how "Little" became part of her name but my other grandmother was "More Nana" and I do remember how that name came to be.

During the war we were living in Corsham where my father was serving in the Army and so we didn't see much of either grandmother, travelling being difficult in wartime. It must have been in 1946 when we moved back to Wolverhampton that Nana Burslem came for tea on one Sunday. My mother and I were looking out of the window and my Mum said something along the lines of "Oh here she comes" and I said "who?". My mother then explained that she was my Dad's mother and therefore was another Nana to me.

As I already had one Nana I said that she must be "More Nana" and the name stuck. Strangely over the years we did not see much of More Nana who lived in Wolverhampton. I do remember various duty visits, usually for tea on a Sunday afternoon. In later years she suffered from dementia and was eventually put into care.

She died at the age of 89. As a family we saw much more of Little Nana and we would go for visits and stay for various holidays, Easter, Whit and the Summer school holidays and stay with her and her second husband, Uncle Dick Hewson. Uncle Dick was my great-uncle. (His first wife Bertha and my grandfather Fred Duck were brother and sister.) I have fond memories of the times spent in Prestatyn, much of the time being spent on the beach.

During the Summer holidays we rented a chalet on the beach and met up with the same families year after year, many becoming good friends. The winter and spring visits would see huge storms and I remember one trip in May 1946, I had measles and was packed off to Prestatyn to stay with Little Nana as my brother had just been born. There was a massive storm that saw the sea break through the sand dunes and Nana and I went across the fields to the beach and found the caravan site flooded, caravans floating or on their side smashed up and many wooden chalets totally wrecked.

I can still conjure up the sight in my mind. Fortunately for me Little Nana lived to the ripe old age of 103 so over the years we got to see her on pretty much every trip we made back to the UK. On one of the later trips home I asked Nana if there was anything she regretted in her life. She said yes.

As a teenager she had wanted a bicycle which then was at the cutting edge of technology and fashion. Her father said no and bought her a pony and trap instead! Much more genteel. She was a tiny, almost bird-like, person and a wonderful baker.

Her father was a baker by trade and had passed on his knowledge to Nana and through her to my mother.