oh Glenda, I have beautiful memories:
First one would be watching her churning butter, and I would be standing there with her fresh homemade bread waiting for the magic time when the butter was ready to spread on the bread.
Second one would be the beautiful roses she would cut for me when I would leave to go home. My grandfather picked me up everyday to go home and have lunch with them.
Third one would be remembering the smile on her face.

Sadly, none. I didn't know either. My mother's mother passed away 7 years before I was born, and my father's mother passed away a few months after I was born.

But I did have three "surrogate" grandmothers....

Two were sisters and lived on a farm where I spent a few weeks in the summer.

The other lived more locally, and hosted tea parties with fancy china etc.

I remember them each with love and fondness.

I had the world's best Grandma... She did everything with all of us grandkids. We baked everything you can imagine, worked in her huge garden, played in her old clothes, sewed with her,sang with her, name it, we did it.. She would always take us to the Bluffton street fair and give each of us a quarter. We could ride all night on it. I would have loved for her to know my children. I saw her alive for the last time on my wedding day. All the wedding party went down to her house because she was so ill with cancer. We came home early from our honeymoon so I could see her but she died about 30 minutes before we got there. Wonderful grandma..........

When I was very young and before we moved to the suburbs my maternal grandmother would lease a place up at the river every summer as soon as the rainy season was over. I would live up there with her and my parents and brother would visit until school let out. Then my mom and brother would join us.

I remember one season where every morning she would make me a cream cheese and jam sandwich on white toasted bread. I was a very picky eater and that was my food thing for that year. She would make me a whole sandwich and cut it into triangles. Half for me and half for the feral kittens under the bridge. I carried it in a little child's hatbox case with a squeaky embossed kitten on it.

At night we would end our day with a walk on a circular road through the woods. There was a little house there that at one time baba was considering buying. That frightened me because I believed it to be a witch's house for some reason.

During summer a carnival would come to the area with a real Gypsy family. My baba and mother would go and have their fortunes told and at time there would be some drama. LOL I was given coins to play at a roulette game where some kind of rodent would be released to land on a number. I was also given cigarettes to feed the goat that was in the encampment.

When we moved to the burbs, baba and deda followed. They eventually bought an old farmhouse on some land where they kept a horse and some chickens and a barn cat. My grandmother had a soft spot for all animals. If she found a dead bird on the ground she would bury it. She couldn't hurt a living creature. I learned to love critters because of her. I'm pretty sure I inherited my temper from her also.

I didn't get to spend much time with my paternal grandma at all. She lived in LA so we only visited a few times. My parents were older and she died when I was still pretty young. I look exactly like her. I do have one picture of us together. I must be about three years old in t. Most of the family pics from that era are quite solemn and stilted. But that one picture of my baba and me is full of smiles and body language that screams LOVE.

never knew any of my grndparents

My paternal grandparents died before I was born but I have fond memories of my maternal grandparents.
My grandma was so special and I think I was her favorite grandchild. At least she made me feel that way.
I remember helping her gather eggs and putting them in her apron.....she helped get over my fear of the hens.
I can still remember the smell of her old car......smells of dust and onion and sardines. She would call my mom and tell her to come down so we could go find the sun. Off we would go towards the mountains with the crackers, onions and sardines, singing Jesus Loves Me.
I must have been pretty young because she was house bound and almost bed fast by the time I was four.
When I was in first grade I walked to her house from school one day......along the way I saw a piece of fruit hanging over the fence in an alley a couple of blocks from her house. I picked it and took it to her....she was in bed most of the time. She wanted to know where it came from.....I told her. "Did you ask anyone if you could have it?" No was my answer so she told me I had to take it back, knock on the door and tell them I took their fruit without permission. I was so shy.....so, crying all the way there, I knocked on the door and confessed. The people must have felt sorry for this skinny little snot nosed waif and told me any time I saw fruit hanging over the fence I could pick it but to be gentle.
I took the fruit back to grandma and she was so proud of me.
I know that had a lot to do with my perception of honesty that has served me well all my life.
Another time, during the war, grandpa walked to the store and bought grandma a little half pint of cream for her oatmeal and coffee. I saw that little carton and thought it was especially for me. Instead of grandma telling me it was for her, she watched me enjoy the who container.
I have many more memories.
Unfortunately my last one is of the night she died......I was almost eight, I think. It was a cold and foggy evening and grandma called my mom and asked her to come down. I begged to go and even thought it was almost my bedtime. My grandma told my mom she was going to die that night and needed to pick out her dress and her Bible passages. I sat on the floor beside the bed and colored in my coloring book.
I don't remember falling asleep but about midnight I was awakened by the doctor coming and my grandmother screaming in pain. She died of a ruptured aneurysm at age 62.
Thanks for starting this post and bring back some special memories.

My grandparents were dead before I was able to remember much of anything.

My paternal grandmother Anna was a beautiful Eskimo woman. She wore her hair up in a bun during the day. At night I would sit captivated as she unrolled the bun letting her long silver-streaked hair drop to her waist ready to be brushed before bedtime. To me, it was the most magical sight.

Jodi-

My grandmother was the sweetest woman, who never had an unkind word to say. (I honestly don't know where my father came from.) The memory that always comes to mind is Grandma in her pinafore-type apron making wonderful pies in her tiny kitchen, where her only counter top was an old green hoosier.

My Nan didn't have a bad thing to say about anyone.
My Mom left my dad when I was 21 months old and my brother was 3. We lived in another province and the hardest thing Mom did was ask if she could live with them for a while.

So Nan looked after us during the day while Mom worked. Grandpa wasn't the kindest to her; he had harsh words for her.

She taught us honesty (should have seen the spanking my brother got when he was caught lying). She loved playing cards and quilting. We often played Cribbage and Canasta (don't have a clue how to play it now, but I loved it as a kid), and Spite and Malice (no memory now either), and Euchre.

She would have ladies over often making a quilt in the livingroom on the wooden frame.

We planted a garden every year and I remember shelling the peas, and digging the potatoes etc.

She died at 82 of cancer.

My paternal grandmother died when I was 5. I remember her being kind of a rough person. She lived in a tiny house with 8 children (last were a set of twins in her 40's that weren't much older than me). Her husband died before the twins were born. He liked the booze so no wonder I picture her as rough - she was probably just tough!
My other grandmother was a person who probably should not have had children. She was more concerned with socializing with friends and relatives. Her 3 kids were all years apart and the older were left raising the younger. I don't remember her being affectionate at all except when we were leaving. Pappy made up for all the love she held back and he outlived her 20 years.
Wish I could had known them better, but they were gone too soon.

My Grandmother had been married and widowed twice. In order to stay in her house, she took in boarders. They had the upstairs bedrooms. She slept in the maids room and cooked three meals a day for all of them. She raised my MOm, her only child, as a single mother. Mom got married and never left. Mom had 4 kids in 6 years. Grandma loved me a lot.She was very short and fat, over 200 pounds. She used to feed me cut up apples after dinner. She'd call out "Apple Time" and I'd come running. She died when I was nine. Of cancer. I cried a lot after she was gone.

I never knew my mother's parents and my father's parents lived next door to us. I have no fond memories of my grand mother.
She was well known to be a mean old woman. One time I went over to her house because my two cousins were there and I wanted to play with them. I was about 9 years old. At lunch time, she told me to "go home, there isn't enough (food) to go around." I came back an hour or so later, and had left my stick horse behind, and she was burning it in the trash. I tried to grab it and pull it out of the fire and she ran at me and tried to hit me with her cane. Actually ran. The old woman had to be well into her 70's.
My smart assed cousins said, "Get her, granny!"

Anyway, when the old witch died, there was a little money left over after the estate was settled and my mother bought me a horse. My cousins, one in particular, loved horses, and said she was going to raise horses when she grew up, etc., etc. Well, I did raise horses and had some of the best registered quarter horses in the area. My cousin had five marriages, several no good kids and a drinking problem that nearly killed her. She may be dead now, for all I know. "Get her, granny." :-))

My mother's mother would be 100 today, in fact. I was just on the phone with my sister talking about her. She was very eccentric. She grew up in a real Yankee family on the north shore (of Mass.), very hardworking people. She aspired to greater things (less hard work!)and was engaged to a college boy before marrying my grandfather, a wealthy business man. She completely adored him (and him her). She loved real estate and no matter where she traveled she would always read the local real estate pages (I get that from her) and she always wanted to drive down private street because "that is where the best houses are!". She couldn't cook to save her life, but she was very good with plants. She always looked lovely, with makeup, done hair, earrings, etc. She was great fun, but I think by most standards she wasn't a great parent. She died 8 days after my mother.

I only hope when the time comes that I can be half the Grandmother many of you remember.

My memories of my paternal Grandmother are probably left forgotten. She wasn't nasty she only cared about herself - her tv shows, her meals, her magazines. She lived with us for years and I had to share a bedroom with her and her dentures on the night table between us. That's a memory I'll never forget!

My maternal grandmother lived across the country so we'd only see her every few years. When I was young I remember her unpinning her white hair at bedtime to brush and braid it. I also remember the deep creases on her face and touching them with my finger. Both of them passed away while I was still a child.

i was not close to my paternal grandparents. I do remember when we went to their house for famly Christmas, my grandfather always gave the grandkids a silver dollar, and he cried with joy over having all of us there.

My grandmother died a couple of years before I was born, in a car accident caused by a drunk driver.

My great aunt lived in grandma's house after that, and when I visited as a child I made miniature bouquets of the tiny pink buds from the Cecile Brunner rose bush that grandma had planted. That made me feel connected with her.

Glenda, thanks for posting the question - it's brought back some great memories.

I was blessed to know both my Grandmas. Dad's Mom loved to dance, tell jokes,always the life of the party - heck, I think she could have had a party all by hersef. She died when she was about 96. She was a little woman - only about 4' 7" so she used to wear high heels. At about age 96 she tripped while wearing her heels, hit her head and died the next day. Mom's Mother loved to cook and bake, grew beautiful roses. One of my earliest memories is sitting on her lap in her rocking chair while she sang "Froggy Went A Courting". She died of a heart attack at age 85.

I've only 'known' my grandmothers after doing some genealogy and general sleuthing -- although I remember both women quite well. I thought both my grandmothers were very stern, hard women, but I didn't know the why of it.

My maternal grandmother lived with my mother and me from the time my parents divorced. She lived into her 90's. She was Scots-Irish and came to NYC with her widowed mother, elder sister and brother when she was in her teens. "Poor" doesn't begin to say it! Her mother and brother died of TB when my mother was a small child. Her beloved husband (the only good man to ever live, according to her) had a stroke in his late 50's and lingered bedridden until dying. She disapproved of my mother's choice of husband; he proved her judgement to be correct.

My paternal grandmother's father was a doctor in silver mining towns in Colorado. Three of her sibs died before they were three. Her two brothers died in accidents; one in his teens and one in his twenties. Her parents begged her to refuse the nice farmer in their native Pennsylvania and marry the guy in Colorado -- to keep her near them. Big Mistake. She bore seven children to this blowhard; one son died at seven. They were constantly on the move -- ahead of the landlord. Her father was crippled when his horse and buggy went off a mountain during a night housecall. During the Depression her husband deserted the family. She managed by renting a large home in a college town and taking in boarders, having sent the two eldest boys to live with a relative. Big Mistake #2: she took the man back. He led her a merry chase. She died in her 60's. He lived to be 100.

No surprise these women seemed "stern" to me.

My maternal grandmother was a mean old woman. I have no fond memories of her. I don't know why her children turned out so well. My paternal grandma was very good to me. I was her first grandchild. My fondest memories of her were when she made oatmeal for me and served it with butter and sugar. I also remember the wringer washer she had on her back porch. I remember her entire house and that a skeleton key was used to unlock the house. Funny thing that she was so nice to the grands but all her kids grew up to be alcoholics. My mom said my paternal grandfather was very sweet and was bossed around by grandma.

I was the youngest of five, my mom was the youngest of 13. My parents left Indiana and moved to California before I was born but my grandmother came to live with us during the last few months of her life. She was tiny at 4'11". I remember her sitting on the sofa quilting. I remember her hospital bed in my bedroom but most of all I remember the long train ride back to Indiana to take her home, after her death. The train people lost her coffin and I remember my mom crying. I remember my Uncle taking my sister and I outside during the funeral service.

If my mom, aunts and uncles were anything like their mother, I'm sorry I didn't know my grandmother better. She raised a wonderful group of children.

we lived on one side of a big duplex - my paternal grandmother on the other. I remember coming home from school at noon to a big dinner just about every day. She was stern but fair. My maternal grandmother lived in the next town - she chewed snuff! She passed away when I was about 10.

Oh, nancylee, I remember grandmother's snuff box. And she would use the end of a match stick for putting the snuff in her mouth. Separate the end, to me, resembled a tiny broom.

my dads mother had crippling arthritis and was in a wheel chair for at least the last 20 years of her life. She never had her haircut so it was down to the floor when she could still stand up. Her fingers were so crippled that her knuckles stood up higher on her hands but she still could do all her own cooking. Everynight she would take down her hair and brush it out and then she would braid it and twist the braid around the top of her head and pin it in place with bobby pins.

My maternal Grandma was the one that took care of me after kindergarten. I would walk to her house after school and we would have lunch, listening to Paul Harvey. We weren't allowed to talk while Paul Harvey was on. If someone said something, she would say, "shhhhh!! Listen!!! Paul Harvey's on!!!" We would sometimes say something just to hear her say that. LOL She could tat like nobody's business and her doilies were beautiful. She also crocheted. I always wanted to learn to tat and still do. I don't think I ever saw her where she wasn't ready to take your picture with her Brownie camera. She loved to take pictures. Maybe that's where I get it from. And I will never forget how she smelled...something like lilacs. She was feisty too. She had 2 husbands that she outlived, along with 2 boyfriends, with whom she "lived in sin" with. This, much to the dismay of one of my crotchety old hag aunts.