Grandad Ron

7th April 2020

My Grandad has just passed away during the night. He was the most incredible man. He collects and keeps all the keepsakes of his life that he made with my Nanny in a little room. It was his office and we used to sit and talk to him. His black leather chair was getting all crinkled and dry. He loved being in there, surrounded by his life. Every pen, every notebook, every photo, every newspaper cutting, burst out of drawers and folders. I'm not even sure what colours the walls were.

His name was Ronald Smith.

I loved him very much, even if he did tell my sister and I to turn off Fresh Prince of Bel Air on the channel called Trouble. We loved it because he had Sky. But he'd only watch the news and sport. When we were younger, we thought the telly he watched was so boring. No wonder Nanny had to knit, do the crossword, cuddle us, and escape to the jacuzzi. Now, I would do anything to sit and watch a rugby or cricket match with him. Most evenings, when we were younger, we'd have jacuzzi nights when we'd go and visit and I remember running through from the furthest conservatory getting colder and colder in a little towel until Nanny would cuddle me warm again. Grandad would be sitting on his beige leather sofa, making the headrest turn brown with the amount of years his head had rested upon it. He'd be watching cricket. Once I was changed, I always sneak up to him and say good night. He'd give me the biggest kiss and wish me sweet dreams. He'd be all snuggly and squishy. He had soft white hair, that never really left his head. Such a strong head of hair. He turned up to my Mum's wedding looking like Einstein in a bow tie.

He started a seating company and built it up with Nanny by his side. He started it by touring table tennis tables, then realising that none of the places had seating. He saw a gap in the market and went for it. I remember him saying how he will always regret not putting a patent in for his umpires chair invention as someone copied him. He supplied seating to every sporting event you could think of. He's got signed photos of lots of sport stars. I remember a signed cricket bat that he loved and the one of John McEnroe. We went to Wimbledon most years with my Mum or my sister. Auntie Jackie would get us tickets. She's the oldest out of five. And probably the most sensible. Two girls, my Mum, then two boys. They all look after each other now. The eldest and the youngest of the brother and sisters still work for the company (and my cousin, too). I'm so proud to have come from such a hard working businessman. I have so many memories about him and Nanny.

When we were little, they used to send us these figurines from every holiday. I remember a hula shaking woman from St. Kitts. My Nanny used to say Petit St Vincent was her favourite. She remembers a man coming along on a bike to deliver their dinner in their cabin by the beach. They travelled everywhere. My favourite toy was a koala bear from Australia that played waltzing matilda when you pressed the paw. My Dad helped build their swimming pool and all the cousins would flock there and swim. The savings account they set up for me paid for the insurance of my car and my first Caribbean holiday. He'd be happy I spent it wisely - on memories.

When I was little, I played cricket in the grounds of Highclere Castle. It was a friendly against another school but I was chosen with another girl because we were tall. Anyway, Nan and Grandad came along to that and I felt so proud that day of them being able to watch me. It was the perfect summers day. The cricket pitch is surrounded by woodland - like a secret hidden area. Grandad later told me that he used to play cricket there with Richie Benaud and they would take girls into their caravan when touring around. He loved telling us a story. It's how he's keeping his stories alive. He relives them again by telling us (even if we did hear them every half an hour when he got a bit older and had forgotten he'd already told you). I'd say I haven't heard the story so he'd tell me all over again. I wish he could tell me another story.

When they moved to Cornwall, I was 4 or 5, and Grandad started making boats. Really intricate, beautiful objects. Pieces of art. His hands are really memorable. Even his thumbnail I remember. It had lines down it and was rounded off into an oval. They became more and more freckly as time went on. They were quite small and really delicate. I remember he bruised a lot when he got older and Nanny used to tell him off. Nanny used to tell him off a lot but I think he liked it. He would sit and fiddle with tiny pliers to make his boats all day long and then call 'Grace' out loud so she could bring him lunch. We need to preserve his boats. 

He had a salad every lunchtime (I remember seeing my first fennel) and loved fish. I remember the way he ate the gravy left over with his desert spoon and Nanny would have to go and get him another one. I remember how he was the only one who loved broad beans. He taught me to leave my knife and fork facing down when eating as it was rude to have the spikes pointing up. He taught me to break bread with my thumbs on my side plate, not with a knife. He taught me that he always wins at monopoly (his tactic, you ask? Buy everything you land on). They had a fish man that came every week. The last meal I made him was trout with capers. We ate exactly where I am sitting. But now, this room is the lounge and it used to be the dining room. The picture of that meal is upstairs on our landing. There's a glass of red wine in the corner. He was happy. He had the most amazing life. Their house was on the edge of a cliff and looked out to the sea. It was the most beautiful view to retire to. I miss it but I'm so happy to have the memories. It inspires me to make memories like that for our new little family.

Yes, he was old fashioned - had never set foot in the kitchen, didn't know how to use the washing machine when Nanny passed and he was a lost soul without her. He got by for nearly 20 years without her. Now, they can spend their 90th birthdays together this year. I can hear him shouting out her name already. They were married for 52 years or so and we all used to say how Nanny put up with him. I think he grounded her. He kept her safe. He was Mr Smith and she was Mrs. I'll be a Mrs Smith next year.

I remember him telling me about how he built his first house. Nanny's Dad ran a pub (The Kite Inn at Osney, Botley, Oxford) and he knew everything about betting. He wasn't a gambling man but he told Grandad how to bet his money and what on. He won enough to build his house. He then took out a few more loans from the bank (£500 at a time he said) and then gradually built it. Nanny was up a roof at 8 months pregnant with her second (Auntie Chris) doing the roof tiles.

One thing Grandad loved to to was to drink a lot of red wine. Three quarters of a bottle at lunchtime, the rest for dinner and usually another one at dinner time...a lot! He loved eating out. He would take us all out for dinner at posh restaurants (maybe that's where my fascination with restaurants and good food originates) and he loved frogs legs. I can still see him sucking all the frog bones and dropping them into a bowl, then washing his hands in some lemony water. Nanny has brie in breadcrumbs (anything cheesy or fatty she loved). A funny memory was when he went into McDonald's for the first time. He went and sat down then raised his hand for a waiter. He thought it was table service.

Even though he was a grumpy Grandad sometimes, you knew, deep down, he was full of love underneath. He upheld the traditional man of the household: limited his emotions, always kept himself busy with making things and fixing things.

Every morning when we'd visit them in Cornwall, I'd wake up to Nanny opening the sliding door to the spare room with her dressing gown on from Japan. I'd sneak off from the bottom bunk (my sister slept on top) and we'd go into the kitchen and feed the 5 dogs (or however many they had at the time: they used to run a kennels in Newbury that they turned into the Leisure Centre). We'd put the kettle on. We'd all have earl grey (mine extra milky) and go back into their bedroom where Grandad would be sat up and the duvet pulled just up enough to see his belly sticking out. He was freckly like Mummys. We'd stare at the rolling hills out of their bedroom (over to the other side of the cliff) and talk about what we'd do that day. Usually, we'd go down to Calne Beach or we'd go to the bowling club. When we were having our earl grey, I used to stare at the objects on their windowsill. I can still see it now. A glass book with violins on, a teddy, a crab, a porcelain dog. Once we'd finish our tea, the dogs would lick the last bits. It felt naughty but Nanny let us do it. Oh, and we'd always have a moo cow biscuit. Weirdly, I had two this morning in bed. And I've also seen lots of robins recently. I always think they're my Nanny in disguise, telling us she's going to look after Grandad now. Just like she's always done.

Goodbye Grandad, you were the pillar of our family. Our foundations. Our roots. We now have new roots to tend to and thanks to you, we've got direction and confidence to grow. Thank you.