Today I celebrate the one hundred and twenty fifth birthday of my maternal grandmother Maria Antonia De Vidts. She was born in Pamel, and, as I wrote before, she did not have a very happy life : she lost two sons.
I am am her oldest grandchild and I was her "eye's apple", as we say in Flemish. It still hurts that she died - way too soon, before my ninth birthday - on September 25 1949. My mother, her daughter, followed her 51 years and one day later.
Yesterday night I had dinner with one of my nieces and her family and I happened to talk about my dear grandmother. Her reaction was about the same as it would have been had I spoken about the early middle ages. She doted on both her grandmothers (including my mother) and I had to remind her quite sternly that my beloved grandmother was no further away from me than her beloved grandmothers from her.
But then, for this younger generation, everything that happened before 1980 is prehistory.