I never knew any of my Grandparents. My Dad's parents died before he met my mother. He didn't really talk too much about his mother, other than giving the impression that she was very bright and capable. They lived in the outback of Australia, his Dad was an engineer. Dad would tell stories of his genius for engineering. He was a specialist in boring wells and in the oil industry. In the Australian outback, artesian wells provided water that kept cattle stations and towns running and his expertise was highly sought after. Dad really never discussed what sort of a man he was. On my Mums side, all of my siblings got to meet my Grandmother. She was, by all accounts a lovely lady. I was hugely jealous. I am the youngest of six and I missed out on Nana, she passed two years before I was born, in 1960.
However of all of them, the one who I am most curious and interested in is my Mothers Father, A certain James Fanning. Born in Dublin, his family had Republican links, but his father was a policeman in the Dublin Constabulary. After retiring as a Policeman, he had properties and used to get my Grandfather to collect debts. My mother told me he left Ireland as the family had IRA connections and he was getting hassle from the authorities. My cousin, who has done some research, suggests it may have been to get away from his dictatorial father. He stowed away on a boat to England, only it wasn't a boat to England. It was going to Argentina. When he didn't arrive in Liverpool and his food and drink ran out, he presented himself to the Captain and was made to work his passage, doing the worst work possible. When he arrived in Argentina, he hated it, but had to work their for six months, to pay for his passage home. When he eventually arrived in England, he met my Grandmother and got married. Apparently he was dapper and intelligent. However, fate intervened and he was conscripted into the Army, gassed and badly injured. When he got back, he was a different man. A bitter alchoholic. My mother was born in 1925 so never knew the old version. She just new a bitter man, who was selfish and often very embarrassing and unpleasant. She grew up hating him. He died in 1948 at 66, when his lungs failed.
When I was a kid, most of the stories she told about him, were of his acts of selfishness and inconsideration. How he would eat all of the bacon when the family rations were given in the war. The kids got the bacon rind. How he would drink eight pints every day, regardless of family finances. How my Grandmother had to work to keep the family afloat and hide money and food from him for the children. How he embarrassed her when she brought boyfriends home. He would have a sixth sense. The only days she recalls that he didn't go to the pub was when she was bringing someone to meet the family. He would then proceed to humilate her and the chap would never be seen again, He would tale care to show the worst side of himself.
When she met my Dad, an Australian pilot, and thet decided to get married, Dad had to ask for his permission. Mum was terrified. Dad said he'd meet him at the pub. That would spare Mums blushes. They got on like a house on fire. Permission was granted. Mum's fears were unfounded. Shortly before he died, she challenged him on his behaviour. He said "Laurie didn't care what I was like, he wasn't a snob, if those other fellas had really liked you, they'd not have cared either, they'd have wanted to save you from all this".
Sometime in the late 1990's, I was chatting with my Mother. She told me a startling thing. She said that she'd changed her mind about her Father. She had realised why he did what he did and why he was like he was. She had forgiven him. I was intrigued. She told me that she had once asked her mother why she had stayed with such a tyrant. The family all called him "The Encumberance". Her mothers answer saddened her. She said "I was lucky to still have a husband after the war, many didn't. The war changed him, but he gave me the best things in life". My Mum asked what she meant and she replied "All of you, my children are the best things in my life. I've never minded working hard and making sacrifices and seeing you all grow up happy has been the best thing in my life".
My mum then explained that she had been reflecting on many of the things her father told her and she'd realised that he was preparing his children for a harsh, unforgiving world. He told her he was delighted when she married my father, as he had an English name and she wouldn't have to put up with anti Irish prejudice. In London at the time, many hotels etc had signs saying "No blacks, No Dogs, No Irish". The Irish were assumed to be think and uncouth by many of the English, only fit for working as labourers. He was exceptionally intelligent. A socialist and an internationalist. He hated Nationalism in all of its guises. He ensured that my Mother understood this. He also said "The Boys will have to look after themselves, they will get by, you and your sisters will have to survive by using your brains". He told her that if she wanted to get on, she would have to take responsibility for everything. Women who rely on men, often end up with nothing. At the time, she thought this was his wallowing in self pity, but her and her sisters all, to some extent, benefitted from having this drummed into them. She was a far better businesswoman than my Father a businessman. She wouldn't fritter cash away in the bookies, orspend impulsively.
I was thinking about this conversation this morning. I often think about Mum on a Sunday morning. I miss her a lot, although towards the end of her life, she was not happy and I was actually relieved when she went. She was very intelligent and insightful. As I get older, I understand her relationship with her father much better. If she was around there are a lot of questions I'd have, but I will never know. One of the things that intrigues me most though, was whether she thought having a rather difficult father actually meant she was better prepared for the world as it really is. We probably hate to admit it, but people who are not nice can enrich your life. In my life, people have badly let me down on a few occasions. Te perverse thing is that they've always ended up doing me a favour. Mind you, I am pleased that I did not have such a difficult relationship with my Dad.
Have a wonderful Sunday. Here is a song I wrote a few years back when I was looking back on my own youth.
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