She was born in Newcastle in 1929. Years later Joyce and her sister Sally would settle down in the city of Middlesbrough.
In 1947 a young Joyce Bank married Peter Anthony. A Scotsman from Bonnybridge. Their marriage would produce two children. My Father Thomas and his brother Keith.
My Dad left Middlesbrough/High Gate for Australia in 1971. 4 years later his Grandma Sarah Blackburn died of old age. My father was distraught over the passing of his Grandma who was her favourite Grandson.
41 years after my Dad left Middlesbrough I found the family that he left behind. Dad never told me he had 3 half-siblings. He only ever told me about his brother Keith.
My Dad told me that his mother was nothing more a whore. His mother was the hot lady of the street. My Grandma Joyce might have been many different things in her life. Some of her Nieces have told me she was Criminal, others have told me different stories.
I was the only Australian Born Grandson to ever make contact with her. I visited Grandma Joyce 4 times in Middlesbrough for over 4 years. Her first meeting was wonderful but after a Heart Attack in Oct 2013, she did take a turn for the worse.
Valve replacement surgery happened. Then in 2015, I was back in the UK to live a life in Middlesbrough. None of my Grandma children was ever supportive of me living in the UK.
I visited my Grandma in the hospital that year when her Grandson Tony tried to prevent me from going.
I last saw Grandma Joyce on May 2016. She was very poorly on an oxygen machine. I knew she wasn't going to live much longer. My mother warned me that "IF YOUR GRANDMA DIES WHILE YOU ARE LIVING IN AUSTRALIA, YOU ARE NOT GOING OVER FOR THE FUNERAL"
After the passing of my Uncle Brian in Napier during July 2012, I told myself that if my Grandma was to die, I would go over for the funeral.
Before my Grandma died in June 2017 I fell out with her youngest Daughter Maureen. Her Daughter (My Dads 1/2 sister) was nothing more but an old cunt full of fucking criticism. She was never supportive of me living in the UK.
Grandma died on 29th June 2017. I was living in London. I was willing to take a few days off work to go up for the funeral. Days later I got a call from my Knobhead Uncle Keith to say that no Grandchildren were allowed at the funeral.
I deleted my Uncle Keith from Facebook. His Son Paul was a retard for not responding to my request to attend an X-mas Day Lunch in 2016. It was a yes or no answer.
I have been living in the UK for 4 years now and in this time frame of 4 years. Nobody related to me by blood from Middlesbrough has ever had the fucking decency to get on a bus/train, go down south and visit me in Birmingham/London.
I sat on the bus from London to Middlesbrough many times between 2012-2016. Its 6 hours each way. If I can do that then why can't any of my Dad's Brothers, Sister, Cousin, Niece or Nephews take the time out of their lives to visit me?
I have had my Cousin from Guernsey and Cambridge visit me on the job in London. Stephen and Jess from Flying the Nest took time out of their lives to get a coffee with me twice within 15 months, My Brother from another mother Metal Steve has crossed the Atlantic 3 times to see me (even when I was waiting for Joan Collins).
2 years since my Grandma Joyce died I realize that I no longer give 2 shits about any relative my father left behind. I don't give a fuck if they are 10, 20, 30, 40,50 or even 70. If you had a care in the world about me; you would write to me often, ask me how is my London life, and maybe you too would sit on a bus for 6 hours.
The only ANTHONY that I give a shit about in the world is my Parents, My brothers and my Niece and Nephews. They are the only Anthony's who care about what I do in this life. Yes, they are all in Australia and I don't ever expect any of my brothers to sit on a plane for 24 hours to visit me.
On the 2nd anniversary of my Grandma passing, I realize how lucky I am to have been born in Sydney Australia and to have lived there for 30 years. If I was born in Middlesbrough, I would have become a fucking CHAV, pushed a pram at 20 and never crossed the Atlantic Ocean.
My Grandma was the only relative who was supportive of me living in the UK and doing what I do. She died so I no longer give two shits about any Anthony in Middlesbrough. Her ashes have been dumped all over a fucking rose garden in Middlesbrough without any plaque referring to her long 87 years of life. It's the same cemetery where both of my Grandma's husband had their ashes scattered.
My father once gave me the Advice Billy Connley once said on stage "IF YOU DON'T LIKE SOMEONE YOU TELL THEM, STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME AND I'LL STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM YOU!"
Middlesbrough and New Zealand are the two biggest shitholes in the world. You will never see me write anything about Middlesbrough nor will I ever show you any photos from New Zealand.
I destroyed all my NZ family photos after my Uncle Brian died and I have also destroyed all my photos from Middlesbrough.
My advice to anyone who is unfortunate enough to be living in Middlesbrough England. You need to get the fuck out and move to London!