Joanne HartWhile compiling part of our family history for a project, I had to write about my paternal grandmother, Joan Wilson. Those few paragraphs suddenly made me realise the huge role she’d played in my life. Besides granting me the genetic gifts of her London sense of humour and an incredible capacity for coping, she laid down deep tracks in my personality without me even noticing.
And there’s the nub of it – through the simple mediums of play, make-believe, rhyme and song, Grans, as we called her, laid the foundations of who I was going to be.
But besides domestic chores, Grans would lay down a square of tissue paper and, starting at one corner, have me scrunch it up with my toes. Then she would have me balance books on my head and reward me with a biscuit if I could walk the entire length of the hall. Who knew that I was learning correct posture, co-ordination and balance?