Bob's Your Uncle!

Just had a chat with Nanny – she is such a sweetheart. As happens with age, she began to reminisce about her childhood as a young girl in England during and before the war and I asked her a few questions about her Dad and Mom – your great, great grandmother and great, great grandfather.

At 4' 10" small, Ethel, also know as Nan and one of my favorite people in the world, had Hope, Rod and a third child whom died at birth. She had a sister and 3 brothers. She was living with us when she died and it broke my heart. Her sense of humor was always a source of cheer and cheekiness. I remember her cleaning the house with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Her laugh made people weak. Always.

A Liverpudlian, Bill, your great, great grandfather became a butcher at the age of 14 and remained so until his death at the age of 51. He was the oldest of 17 (yes, 17!) children. All the kids got together every Sunday at the home of their parents and had a grand supper. Mom's grandmother asked her who she was every Sunday because she couldn't remember all the grandchildren's names. Mom can barely remember any of the names of her uncles and aunts except for her favorite uncle, and the second oldest son, Bob. When the war broke out the family scattered across England to work for the war effort or in the army and that was the last she really saw of Bob. As a child, she said she thought he looked like what she thought God must look like. So four generations removed, Bob's your uncle. And maybe God. Cheers!