Grandparents

Although I moan I often think how fortunate I am,

to have been blessed with a smashing Dad and an awesome Mam.

And along with such great parents to guide me day by day,

there are four other people who have helped me on my way.

I know there are those in the world who feel cheated and very sad,

because they never knew their Nan nor met their own Grandad.

My grandparents lavished upon me their attention and their time,

and now I will pay tribute to them with this little rhyme. 

My Mammy is disabled so when I came along,

she needed help from family who we stayed with all day long.

They'd share my care between them and did everything they could,
to keep me clean and entertained and filled with tasty food. 

My Grandparents spoilt me rotten even though I was the last,
of all 18 grandkids they'd looked after in the past. 
I was the precious baby of their second daughter,
and they passed on to me the same things they had taught her.

When I was small I watched cartoons but loved a certain show, 
in which Geoffrey, George and Zippy would paint a big Rainbow.
They were joined by a soft brown bear and Bungle was his name, 
and because of furry footwear my Granda's alias it became.

But when it comes to nicknames my Nana's can't be traced,
no-one can remember when and why with it my Nan was graced. 
I've never heard of another soul who shared Noonie as a title,
and having their special lady around to her family was so vital. 

I remember a favourite game I played with my Granda Bungle,
pretending the garden was a pool and oddly not a jungle.
We'd splash about and jump and  swim upon the soft green grass,
my Granda knew how to ensure I was a happy lass.

Then sadly when I was six and he was seventy-four, 
I was sat down and gently told "You won't see him anymore".
He'd slipped away during the night in front of the TV,
with his glasses on his nose and his paper on his knee.

It was the first time I'd lost someone and I couldn't comprehend,
that my lovely Granda's Bungle life had reached it's peaceful end.
But as I grew I'd often think back to times when I was small,
and smile as I remembered him and how we'd have a ball. 

For many years my Nana's house at Redesdale was the hub,
relatives would visit lots and she'd feed them piles of grub.
She was a wonderful woman with a massive heart,
I never thought there'd come a day when she and I would part.

Although she looked quite healthy & walked & shopped & cooked,
her eighty year old body was weaker than it looked.
And like her husband did before she slept and did not suffer,
I thought losing him was hard enough but losing her was tougher. 

But unlike a lot of other girls of my age that I knew,

I'd lost a couple of grandparents but I had another two,

my Dad's mother and father spoilt me and they doted,

they took me to feed ducks in Morpeth and on the river we boated.

I'd stay with them twice a week and every holiday,

a favourite weekend past-time was eating ice cream in Whitley Bay. 

And on a Sunday morning my Granda Wafer would pull out,

his old LPs and turntable and we'd sing and dance about. 

My Nana Wafer couldn't walk so my Granda pushed her around,

he wore bilateral hearing aids but he'd often mute the sound.

He did it when my Nana moaned & gave him a tongue lashing,

for watching the sports channel, horseracing was his passion. 

For years my Nana suffered with Multiple Sclerosis,

so she and my Granda had to form a symbiosis.

He devoted his entire life to caring round the clock,

and to his spouse and family he became a rock.

Now some folk have an easy ride and some an unfair life,

you'd think my Granda would be repaid for tending to his wife.

But no his prize for all the years he struggled and he toiled,

was to discover that his plans by illness would be foiled.

He should have spent his golden years just chilling and relaxing,

but thanks to frequent hospital stays his final days were taxing.

When he finally left us it was a sad relief,
his suffering was over though we were lost in grief. 

So now all I am left with is my frail grandmother,
and even though I'm an only child she thinks I have a brother.
She's clouded in dementia and doesn't know my face,

and her brain once filled with memories is now an empty space. 

Three of the four are looking down on me from up above, 

remembering the happy times filled with fun and filled with love.

Thinking of my childhood I've often laughed or smiled,

I'm so thankful and I'm glad that I was their grandchild!