I have a lived for a few years. Well, that’s if you have reached my age and realised that being in your forties just isn’t the end of life, but only the halfway mark.

Judging by my grandparent's ages at death:
Maternal grandfather died when my mom was 5 years old (he was probably in his thirties at the time)
Maternal grandmother died this year at the age of 89.
Paternal grandmother died in her fifties
Paternal grandfather died in his sixties

I have no idea what the average would be. To tell you the truth I really don’t want to even calculate it. For me, I’m holding my maternal grandmother as my baseline.

But I’m getting side-tracked here. As Angela so clearly explained in her blog about memories defining not only a family but also the future I’m going to randomly post memories from myself as well as my maternal grandmother’s that she loved to tell us about. It includes some very funny tales like when she went to work in the Tabaco leaf sorting plant. And stuff that happened to me.

Some will be funny, some will be nostalgic and others will be sad.


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