Early Memories

My grandparents lived at Berchem-St-Agathe, a suburb of Brussels about two miles from the city centre. Their house at 68 Rue de Dilbeek was a well-built, smart, suburban, garden terraced house complete with cellars, attic playroom, shuttered windows and a balcony. The house had been extended at the back to provide a very modern kitchen leading to white walled garden full of flowers. Now that the war was over my grandmother had been planting more than ever as if to compensate, for the years of growing food during the war. On the other side of the road was a high white wall and a row of giant poplar trees hiding a large house. No-one ever told me who lived there, but I do vaguely remember being invited to a children's party there where the food was set out on long tressle tables.

See picture on the left in the garden when my grandparents moved in in 1931. My mum is the small blonde little girl with her brother and cousins.

As you came to the top of the road there was a little wood, which opened out into farmer's fields. I remember a steep hill, leading down to the fields, covered in red Flander's poppies. I never realised the significance of these flowers until much later. I just thought how pretty and fragile they looked, blowing gently in the breeze and how prickly their stems were when, one day, I fell and rolled all the way down the hill.

I can still quite clearly remember going to the shops twice a day with my grandfather, in the morning for the breakfast rolls and again later in the day to collect more bread, and cooked meats and cheese for tea. He had endless patience with me, carrying me everywhere and mopping up all round as I loved to splash in the bath at night. He hadn't been that patient with his own children and had demanded standards of perfection. He had a brilliant mind, which he passed on to my mother and brother. My grandfather was a Walloon and I do believe the family originally came from Namur, and French was his first language, for the most part of his working life he was the executive director of L'Urbaine Insurance Company in Brussels. My grandmother was totally different, a kind and gentle homemaker, to whom family meant everything. She was an amazing cook and had to be to meet my grandfather's exacting standards. I really loved my gran and always felt as if she was fighting my cause, when I argued with my parents. A truly wonderful lady who lived to 104.

These are some of my memories of my early childhood spent in Belgium, but they may be confused with later memories, from our holidays going back to Belgium every year. We used to go to Brussels one year and to various seaside resorts the next.

The same garden twenty years later - next generation. Same grandparents, my mum has grown up and I am the shy dark haired little girl.

My parents died when I was in my mid twenties and how I wish I had found out more about my grandparents and great grandparents. I did, however, pester my mum continually for stories even as a small child. Perhaps an embryionic interest in Family History even then.

I know, for instance, that someone was supposed to have already looked into the family's history before and had discovered that the Piette's descended from a 16th century Catholic Bishop. Also, that during the 19th century one of my Piette ancestors had funded one of Alexander Solvay's first attempts to manfacture solvents using his patented Solvay process. However, his so-called friend and partner diddled him and went on to make a fortune.

I remember my great grandparents, who were both dead by the time I was ten years sold, but not their real names, only the names I called them as a small child. See photograph for their wedding picture in 1889 on the next page and of their diamond wedding anniversary in 1949.

Gay J Oliver © 2003 - all rights reserved