*I didn't mean to rhyme, but am childishly pleased that I did! Lol.
My mother is amazing. A proper Welsh mam, strong, kind, and a lot of fun. She's also kind of hippy-ish, really random, a breast cancer survivor, and awesome at cwtches.
She decided to be a stay-at-home mother because my family were actually better off financially without having to pay for childcare (she also didn't like her job - which made the decision a bit easier!)
Anyone (and there have been people,) who says that my mother is less of a feminist for deciding to raise us in the best way she could, always being there when we came home from school, and supporting us throughout, doesn't understand the meaning of feminism.
My Nanny H is a lot of fun; she's also one of the kindest people I've ever met.
She randomly compares things to Father Christmas (yeah, really,) and sometimes sings 'Amen' at the end of nursery rhymes (like '12345, once I caught a fish alive.')
I utterly adore her, and she's in hospital, and really not well, at the moment. She's amazing, and I love her very much.
My Nanny Jones was smart, elegant, and strong. Raised in poverty, she was kind, funny, fierce, generous, and could do maths faster than a calculator.
In a time when it was unusual for a married woman to do so, both she and my grandfather worked to support their family.
She was also bipolar, and it often made her difficult to understand. Sometimes it made her extremely ill. We always loved her, even if we never totally 'got' her.
She loved music and musicals, and also made the most amazing cakes you'd ever tasted. She was incredibly stylish - her shoes had to match her bag, and, back in the '50s, had to match her gloves as well.
Her and my grandfather could never do anything apart - despite the fact that they bickered like school kids. She died four days after he did, about three years ago; I still miss them very much.
My Granny Evans was my great-grandmother. I was lucky enough to be able to meet her, though she died when I was a kid.