Mary Gavin. GG
Mary Jane Burns Gavin started life with a little confusion. Her birth certificate had both 1914 & 1915 on it. The matter was eventually resolved when the Queen sent her the telegram on reaching a century.
Brought in to the world during the anguish and horror of the First World War. She was born in Paisley, the town that was built on thread. She might have been wealthy, as her family were pioneers in boiled sweets before they drank the business away.
As the Second World War started, her only daughter Elizabeth was born. However, within the year her husband was despatched to India for five years. Imagine the pain that must have caused, a little girl without her Daddy until she was six. Little Elsie waiting patiently at the station, not recognising the returning hero.
My own early memories of GG all come from their house in Renfrew. She was the one that got us our weekly comics. She had a soda-stream before anyone. She had limeade delivered from the Alpine delivery man. She was the glamorous granny, jetting off to the Costa Brava or Bulgaria, wherever that was.
Unsurprisingly given the impact that the thread mills had, she was a talented seamstress. She had a beautiful patent black Singer sewing machine. There was always danger though, needles and pins everywhere. To this day I still have a collection of countless baubles of Coates thread, not sure what to do with them, beyond the memories.
I think there was always a bit of Hyacinth Bucket about her. She worried way too much about what people might think of her.
The female genes on her side were strong. GG lived to the grand old age of 105. He sisters Etta reached 95 and Betty reached 90, almost three hundred years between them. They claimed that longevity was down to losing their husbands early in life, as it gave them all peace. Although sisterly relationships were not idyllic, as GG would fight cat and dog with her youngest sister, each goading the other with how well their families were doing.
Her long life was attributable to her ability to maintain her cognitive ability right to the very end. Although her sight and hearing slowly left her, and her mobility diminished, her mind remained powerful.
GG was the one who reminded us of all forthcoming birthdays. She knew exactly how much money was in her bank account daily. She claimed that what kept her sharp was playing Who Wants to be a Millionaire. I am pretty sure that she would have gone deep before she needed to phone a friend.
As both of our parents were only children, we had an interesting dynamic. My sister likes to say that it means we got GG all to ourselves. We don’t have any aunts or uncles, nor any cousins. It meant that to all intents and purposes Dad was also her son. He loved her and she doted on him. They had their infamous £5 bet about whether she would make 100.
When his dementia kicked in aggressively, she didn’t understand the change in his personality. He became short tempered and intolerant. You could see the sadness in her eyes. I think she more than anyone could see through the walls of protection that Mum and Dad put up to cover their mental health. Dad passed away before GG, which was something that she never expected.
After turning 100, we started to see a deterioration in GG. As Mum and Dad could no longer be her primary carers it began to take its toll.
But then a miracle happened, the troops were mobilised. We set up a rota to take care of her, aided by the kind and caring Kathy Garry. We saw a transformation in her, as the importance of social interaction breathed life in to her. I’m pretty sure we broke some Covid rules, but unlike Boris we didn’t have a party.
By this stage Mum had given up on being the matriarchal head of the family, so GG returned to the throne to head up the family. Her wicked sense of humour and biting sarcasm were her trademarks.
‘Beautiful steak pie, Jane...the best. Was the pastry shop-bought’
You would be sent a short list of messages to be collected. There was always on item that turned it in to an adult treasure hunt, as if to test your shopping skills. Aberdeen & Belfast spiced corned beef was my personal favourite.
On every visit you would be summoned to that little stool, psychologically designed to give her the upper hand and make you feel small again. There you would be given the answers to all of life’s mysteries.
She outlived any sense of fear in her mortality, in fact she had outlived everyone. So, she prepared for her death. Jack and I were summoned to clean behind the oven, as she didn’t want anyone thinking she kept a dirty house. She brought in her little chair to inspect that we had completed it to her liking. I had to stop her lifting the carpets to see if it was clean underneath.
She lived in her own home in Elderslie until she reached 105, surrounded by wonderful neighbours. Only then did she try a care home. It was clear that she didn’t really fancy it. She thought it a complete waste of money on her part.
In typical GG fashion she left us in an orderly fashion. I think she said goodbye to everyone in the family, in person or by phone, taking one last opportunity to sprinkle some final words of wisdom to us.
So, we had the joy of getting another five years with the grand old dame. The young ones got to experience an adult relationship with their great grandmother. Few get to enjoy that.
On turning 105, GG received her second telegram from the Queen. In true Hyacinth style both were displayed on the mantle peace.
