Two girls, the bigger my grand mother and the small one Anna who died soon after that photo. Three of the bigger son's, the two others not yet born.
That means, her husband died at the end of century, as my grand mother was only 14 when that happened.
I will tell Monday evening a story from my great grand mother life at the Canal Cafe Theatre with Spark London. Parts of her life, as I remember her telling me, some I was told by other members of the family.
All my life, she was a model for me, for her courage in face of adversities of her life, her optimism and warmth. She made the best of what was given to her.
From all that brings you down or make you sad, something good will come, Julie, she used to finish thus all her stories.
The only time when she could not finish like that was when she was talking to me about her daughter who died so young, her eyes, blind for 25 years were then humid. Even 50 years later, she cried thinking of the one child of 7 that she lost.
She managed a distillery in a time when very few women were owners and heads of a company, and she did that in a small conservative city. She also brought up alone, after the death of her husband, those six remaining children.
She loved all her children, grand-children, great grand-children.
When I was small child she used to tell me an imaginary story about going to shop to buy gifts for all of them and not being able to come inside - so many gifts she had, so many descendants. Then, she begun telling their names. I remember her telling me, and imagining her trying to go through the door with too many bags.
I must have been only 6 or 7 at the time, or even younger.
The rest of her stories she told me when I was 12 and she 92.
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