Happy birthday, Ciocia. Today you would have been 89.

Aged about 2, in Lwów.

Today’s date will stick in many Londoners minds, because of the London bombings 20 years ago. I remember the day well because I had taken some children on a school trip, and we were supposed to come back to school by tube, which of course had closed by the time we were ready. Luckily I had some very enterprising children with me who knew all the bus routes from Park royal to White City, and bus drivers were generous in letting us get on. Even so, it was a very hot day, and there was still a bit of walking to do and we had no more provisions or sustenance. Luckily I spotted a public house in the not too distant distance. Perfect I thought. At least we are not in the days of my childhood, where we would not have been allowed in.

We approached, asked for water and the use of their loos, and on we trudged back to school. There we were greeted with great relief. Apparently a lot of the school buses were not able to collect the children as many roads were closed off. Hardly anyone had mobile phone in those days, so the school telephones were burning, some of the children were panicking a bit, the school hall was full and the atmosphere was generally one of we’re all in it together, whatever it is. At that point we had no idea what had happened. The tragedy only came to light once we watched the news at home.

But for me this date is much more important – it was my auntie’s birthday which we always celebrated and so I try to somehow celebrate every year too. She was never greedy for presents herself, but was extremely generous to me. Excessivley so, some would say as she gave me her cottage! Thank you, Ciocia.

But the best thing is that very soon the cottage will be full of baby laughter and joy, as my youngest daughter has just had a baby boy who is the most gorgeous and adorable tiny human I have ever seen. Lots of people warned me that grandmotherhood would take me by surprise. They said I would fall in love, be thrilled and excited and that it would be a feeling like no other. Did I believe them? I couldnt really take it in.

But last Wednesday, when I visited Marysia in hospital, and I saw this little (actually quite big, because 9 lb and 2 oz) bundle, with loads of dark hair peeping out from under his little hat, I was entirely smitten. I have a grin on my face from ear to ear, and I just want to tell everyone I am a grandmother. My pride seems to know no bounds.

Beware catching my eye on a bus or in a shop or in the street. You will soon find out why I am giggling like a madwoman. Joy. Sheer unadulterated joy.