My friend Jane shared her heritage story about naming with me, and I'd like to share it with you. It's a good reminder of the meaning and beauty a name can hold.
My Name: Full Circle
Jane Marie is my name. Mother said she always liked the name Jane since she babysat for a darling little girl with that name. Besides, it "went with" Jack, my older brother's name that began with the same first letter. Most importantly, it was her mother's middle name, Cecelia Jane Grigg.
To complete my name she chose Marie from my paternal grandma's middle name, Anna Marie Fleming.
Have I become, or was I destined to be, a mixture of them---a nice combination---of Cecelia Jane and Anna Marie?
Grandma Grigg was a strong, independent woman. It was a matter of survival for her. Left widowed in the early 1930's with four teenagers, she was forced to be that way. She was a good cook, a good housekeeper---loved homemade noodles; clean, painted surfaces; fresh wallpaper. I remember the hand stitched doll clothes, the German chocolate birthday cakes, the deep purple African violets on the porch, the brown sugar and butter sandwiches.
Grandma Fleming was the countrywoman, the farmer's wife, the oil well driller's daughter. She loved to garden and was famous for her fried chicken. She could take my aunt's ready made dress and reconstruct it into one that would fit me and make me the envy of my friends. Best of all,she took a small-town girl, ME,----and made me love the country.
ME---a combination of them. I love it.Now as of April 9, 1998, I have gotten to add an extension to my name story. Actually, on July 28, 1995, that extension began with the birth of my first granddaugher. She was named Anna Maria because Anna was a much-used name on both her dad's and our side of the family. Maria is her mother Jennifer's middle name.
Then Anna's sister was born and named Cecelia, after my grandma.So you see, I have my grandmas' middle names, while my granddaughers have their first names.
Tradition, combination, connecting three generations. I do love it.
Back to school also means the end of impromptu games of baseball, unless there's not too much homework . . . baseball in the back yard is easy-going fun, but also sometimes a little intense – there's always the threat of a broken window or two, or a little mud and gravel on your knees if you get to slide home. Whether you're cheering on the batter, chattering at the pitcher, or sweating out a 3-and-2 count, back-yard games are where skills and interest are built, and fun is found in a brand new bat or a well worn mitt.
