I didn’t quite finish my musings about names. Because a lot of my thoughts about names and the roles associated with them relate to family. I am blessed to still have my mother with us. She will soon be 93 and, as I observe the decline in her health as she ages, I am reminded that soon I will be the matriarch of this family. But for now my role as daughter is a big part of my life. She is a loving, worrying, steel magnolia of a woman who recognizes that she is failing in both mind and body. And I, as daughter, am there to see her through each minor crisis that arises. My name as daughter is Kathy (when she calls me with the current problem). She speaks it with a tiny upswing in tone at the end of my name, as though it is followed by a tiny question mark. It’s almost as though she wonders if I’m really still here. Perhaps she’s afraid of losing me, losing the anchor that holds her to her role as Mother.
My next name is Nana-girl. That’s what my husband often calls me. Nana because that’s what the grandchildren (3, all grown) call me. I don’t know where the girl comes from. Those days for me are long past. Perhaps in his eyes I am still the younger woman he fell in love with.
Of course, before being Nana I had to be Mommy, Momma, Mom and, sometimes, Mother (with that tone of barely disguised disgust at whatever I was demanding of them.) The choice of motherly name varied with the ages of my children and the situation. I found that during the teenage years the tone of voice often said more than the name I was called. My two living children now treat me with the utmost love and respect. Thank you, Ronnie and Cindy! And I would give anything to hear Daniel once again challenge me not to use my “Nancy-Nurse” voice with him.
,Then came the grandchildren, all grown now, two with children of their own. They made me Nana and I love to hear them call me that, especially when it’s accompanied by a hug and kiss and a murmured “I love you.” They make me proud and make me feel important as a kind of glue holding this family together. That’s where the matriarch concept came to mind.
I, however, created a bit of a conundrum when the first great-grand came along. Multiple generations of grandparents and great-grandparents still living had me convinced that surely there were other Nana’s. So I chose Gigi or G-G (great-grandma). My great-granddaughter and her mom latched on to it, and I feel her little brother will too. But my third great-grand is experiencing name confusion, because his dad calls me Nana while his mom tries to stick with Gigi. And I was ready to go with Nana the day we thought the name was uttered from his 10-month-old lips. I guess they’ll all just have to figure out what to call me as the years progress.
The last name I have is grateful. For all of the above–my mom, my husband, my children, my grands and great-grands. Life would be very empty without them. And this is my message to them–You make me very happy and make my life worth living. Thank you for being the wonderful family you are!
So, what about you, Reader? Have you thought about your names? Professional? Personal? Family? I’d love to know your stories. Because we all have a story, don’t we?