Stories: You don't know you are born

My colleague was telling me today about the above ITV show today shown recently. Celebrities uncover their family's heritage and reveal the social history of the time as they explore the road they might have travelled themselves if their lives hadn't taken them into the world of show business.

Ray, who is nearing retirement after years of dedicated service to the YMCA, related the episode with Ken Stott (I think?) who pushed a plough around a field as his grandfather would have done day after day to earn a crust.

We related stories of our own grandparents and how the young people we serve in hostels have such different expectations of work today. I can't help thinking of the Monty Python sketch - "I got up this morning, before I went to bed... licked road clean...etc !!!

I do feel humbled that we do not really appreciate how generations before us have had to strive and struggle to exist, probably dying younger too.

My maternal grandparents, who have been dead 11 or more years, were entrepreneurs and grew from a corner shop to become the national mail order seed merchant Marshall's, eventually sold to a much larger firm. My auntie was pictured pushing a wheel barrow on the front cover of the seed packages.

Nan was a single parent for a few years when her husband, Moat, died suddenly. Their daughter was 12 or 13, but it didn't stop her adopting a baby girl as they had planned to do together. During the war she drove trains in Norfolk, to move essential goods around. She had plenty of tales of toil to meet deadlines and all the other problems of trying to run a small business. I used to listen to her for hours. She remembered the announcement of the first world war on the radio. I recall laughing how in Bungay, Suffolk, where she grew up, she would have to run errands to take messages for her mother because there weren't telephones (let alone mobiles!). So different to today.

Ethel was a great woman. Strong in heart and mind until the end, though her body lost to cancer, and her daughter had cut herself off from her for the remaining six years of her life, together with her other grandson. During that period she also nursed her husband with Alzeihmer's. Alone.

I miss my Nan and know she would have loved to see me now and to know her great-grandson.

I was the last to see her alive in hospital and it was a privilege to talk to her in her coma, say how I felt, pray over her, read her (trashy romantic) library book to her and share a joke about why on earth she was in to that stuff?!

I look forward to an answer when we next meet....