Grandmas hold our tiny hands for just a little while, but our hearts forever. ~Author Unknown

Today the 27th of November is the birthday of my grandmother on my mothers side. Easier said - mums mum. Kristín Jakóbína Guðmundsdóttir was born on the 27th of November 1894, her mother was a housemaid/worker at a farm in the next county to where I live now. As great grandmum was not married the child was taken from her shortly after birth to live with her grandmother. This was greatgrans second child to be taken from her. The first Stefania was sent with the man who was said to be her father to Canada, from her we have a heap of Canadian "cousins". Mums fate like so many of her time was one of poverty and movement. I unfortunately have not been dilligent enough to write down what mum has told me about her mothers early life - something I really need to address. All I know is that she had it tough and it made her tough in her own way - but at the same time - she always had a love of life.

This is her at around 16 years of age:

Not a bad looker.

She met and married my grandfather, a hardworking non drinking farmer. While married to him she had seven children, mum was number 4 in the line. Their homes were of the original Icelandic turf variety. They first lived in Laxárdal, if you go there today all you will see is a slight change in the landscape that tells you that a dwelling was once there, being turf it goes back into the landscape, after all it is just dirt and grass. Their second home was at Tunga, where my uncles Andres and Þóri still farm

I would say that this photo was taken in Tunga. Amma now older and more worn.

Amma left Afi after the youngest of their children was confirmed, again, I have been remiss in remembering dates.... As I am writing this I am realising how little there is of her that I know or understand, my feelings of what people have told me is that she was a very social person, loved being with other people, enjoyed poetry - of the Icelandic variety, laughed and was generally a happy go lucky person, whilst from what I gather and know my grandfather was far more serious. There were serious issues in their relationship that need not be recounted here, and probably had a major impact on their relationship - but those issues were before mother was born, they had 3 children after that - so whether it was perseverence, stubborness or god knows what - they stuck it through a lot longer than most folks would these days.

Amma moved to Reykjavík where she met Dóri, I called him dóri afi - he was by all accounts a very eccentric man. He was an inventor - was always finding new ways and new ideas. I really know so little about him, I just remember that as a child I liked him, and I think that he was good to my gran.

Amma wrote a lot of letters to mum and us when we moved to Australia and over the last few years mum and I have been typing them into mums computer, problem was she never put a date on them, neither did mum when she got them, so they are a little mixed up. However, I know that she kept up with what all of us were doing - ie us being all the grandchildren.

As I have touched on before I was fortunate enough to meet her again when I came with mum when I was 12 and again when I was 17. When I came with mum she was still living with Dóri in their small house near rauðavatn (a small lake which was outside of Reykjavik - now it is just outside the window of my aunts apartment block). The house no longer exists but the trees that

she planted are still there.

Amma had a stroke and ended up in hospital for the last years of her life - when I visited with Tracy she was just one big smile, she had grown so small but the shine was still there in her eyes and although the body was weak the mind was still all there.

This is Unnur with Amma. So happy even after all the hardships that she had gone through in life and then end up totally dependent on others in a hospital bed. Where do people find this love of life?