Not one day passes, without I reflect on how I was raised.
I was fortunate to spend endless hours with a grandma who loved to take me along wherever she went, as a result of that, I was able to experience a grown up world through a child's eyes..
My grandma Ciss owned a bakery for thirty six years, each morning at seven sharp, she began her bread-baking, and sweet confectionaries. The tea-kettle whistled on the hob all day long, serving endless cups of tea to visitors throughout the day.
Policemen (bobbies) walked the foot-beat back then, and "Cissy's" bakery was the place to offer a sit-down, and enjoy a custard tart and a nice cup of tea. She was well loved for her generosity.
I helped in her bakery since I was old enough to walk, doing all kinds of chores, from peeling bucket loads of potatoes for the meat and potato pies, serving the customers, to delivering the freshly baked loaves of bread each day.
On Monday, her day off, we would ride the double-decker bus into Liverpool, and deposit her weekly earnings into the Littlewood's Bank. My grandmother loved Liverpool, it was her place of birth, a bustling city, with all that a city has to offer.
After shopping and eating lunch in John Lewis department store, we would make our way to the Pier Head at the River Mersey, and board a ferry boat to New Brighton, I'd play in the sand with my bucket and spade, and Ciss would sit and feed the seagulls. As the sun dipped below the horizon, we'd make our return ferry ride back to the mainland, and head home on the bus.
Simple days spent with my grandma, nurtured and loved, innocence and childhood going hand in hand.
I miss her with a passion.
