My Grandparents - Nana and Grandad

To their Grandchildren, they were known as Nana and Grandad. These were my Dad’s parents. They were hard working, good honest people who certainly meant well, but in reflection may have been just a little misguided. After all they were raised in the Victorian Era, which strongly influenced much of the way they were.

They were very stern and proper, and keeping up appearances seemed all too important. There was very little hugging or touching, and in their eyes children were to be seen and not heard.

Grandad (Charles Houlton Gordon Snow) had served in both World Wars and had seen some pretty unspeakable things. One of those was that his best friend (named Brian Taylor) was picked off by a German sniper, as they stood side by side on the battle field. Subsequently my Dad was named for this friend. (Brian Baillie Snow).

Their home was dotted with a few war artifacts and souveneirs, and on the occasion that I came to visit Grandad would always say, “Don’t touch that girlie,” whenever I would reach to look with my hands.

Grandad was slight of build with a big toothy smile, but I always felt deep down I was probably just a nasty little germy child in his eyes.

Grandad had straight white hair, and he would often ask me to run my fingers through his greasy scalp. It was not the most pleasant of duties, but I was a dumb little kid who did what she was told.

Grandad was a germaphobe, and made us clean the brass door knobs on a regular basis. I’m a bit of a germaphobe too – maybe that’s where I got it.

Having lived through the Great Depression he certainly lived by the axom “Waste Not Want Not.” He would stand behind you as you peeled potatoes checking to make sure you hadn’t taken too much of the potato. In order to pass the test the peel had to be so thin you could almost see through it. Together they often made fish head soup, so as not to waste any part of the fish.

Nana, (Mabel Geraldine) seemed to always have a permanent scowl on her face. Some of this I think came from the fact that she had much pain in her knees from arthritis (I believe). She was a great Mother and homemaker and loved to sew.

Nana had lovely white wavy hair – like frosting on a cake, and I loved to listen to her, as she had a beautiful speaking voice.

Grandad’s term of endearment for her was Peggy, and she would call him Charlie most times, and then in exasperation sometimes she would call out Charlieeeeee with the emphasis on the e.

Nana wore a beautiful long sage green dressing gown that I remember quite vividly, and it suited her quite well.

Their home was always very neat and tidy, and appointed quite well. I remember the wool carpet in the living room with the flowers around the edge.

The kitchen seemed always to be the center of activity for them, as they made well balanced simple meals making good use of items from the garden. Their vegetable and herb garden was always very important to them, as was composting in making rich soil for the garden. I well remember a white triangular colander which could be found in the sink to collect food scraps for that compost.

The dinner gong was my favorite item in their home. It consisted of a shiny brass circle about 8-12” in diameter that hung down waiting to be hit by a leather covered mallot. I always wanted to, but never dared hit it myself, but I sure loved the sound of it when Nana did the job. Sometimes for a treat Grandad would take bread, spread it with raspberry jam, and pour cream over the top. Now that was good stuff.

The grounds around their home were always tidy and well manicured, and they had the most magnificent roses.
Despite my Grandparents inability to be affectionate, they did love each other very much, really right up until the end.

They were deeply religious Baptists, and often had a kneeling word of prayer. I remember sometimes when Grandad was praying, Nana would chime in and say “Now Charlie…..don’t forget to pray for so and so.”

Although I never really felt comfortable in their home I know they always meant well, and I’ll ever be grateful to them for being the parents of my dear old Dad.



Hilda S. Gamette
June 2009