My great grandmother was born the year Lincoln was Assassinated. I met her as a child.
That is so neat! You must have heard stories if not from her, then from her children. I’m fascinated by the lives these people lived whose blood we carry. That’s a memory to cherish and to tell your kids about.
My only memory of a great grandparent was of being in a crib in a hallway in Texas and someone who kept putting back the doll I kept throwing out. But nothing about the person returning the doll.