What’s in a name
21 August 2007About two years ago my Mom and I were at a family funeral where not only did the immediate family not give any eulogies, many of them didn’t bring their children to their mother’s funeral. Nothing can incite my mom to rage like underappreciated moms (you should have seen her after March of the Penguins) and I remember her pointing her finger squarely at my face while we were waiting for the mass to begin and saying “Listen. You had better bring your kids to my funeral. And if you don’t do a eulogy I’ll come back to haunt you.” I assured her that not only would I do one, I would bring the effing house down (where the “effing house” is defined as “St Catharines Roman Catholic Church”) by telling everyone how I grew up constantly listening to my mom tell me three things, and how lucky I was that two of them were “I love you” and “I’m proud of you.” (The third, for the record, is “Remember where we parked the car”). I also said I would tell the story about my senior year of college when my mom and I got matching cell phones (because every funeral should be brought to you by Sprint PCS) and how, after weeks of confusing them, in a stroke of brilliance I finally set the display on my mom’s to read MOM. “I’ll show you how to change it if you want to put something else there. You could put your real name,” I said offhandedly. (I think at the time I wasn’t even following my own advice, and had my phone set to read BUSINESS, which was how I referred to myself senior year. You know, because I took care of it). “Why would I change it? ‘Mom’ is my favorite name,” she said.
I went home for a night this weekend, and I am fairly confident that mom has changed her favorite name at the hands of someone who can’t even speak it yet:
I have a couple of problems with this stuff. #1, it’s all over (one of) my childhood home(s). #2, Let’s not forget that *I* am actually grandma’s little girl, despite the fact that I am 26 and live in another state and occasionally use bad language and make poor life decisions and probably won’t fit into that bib. #3, I don’t think that embroidered pillow is biologically accurate.
2 Responses to “What’s in a name”
August 21st, 2007 at 8:59 pm
OK, so no one can ever touch that special gigantic place in my heart reserved for and filled by my wonderful children!!
The thing about a Grandchild is that my house is almost empty now and my Maternal skills (rusty though they may be) are rarely needed anymore. So the idea that a new tiny person may actually look to me for something someday is very energizing. It is all about hope and the incredible stretching capacity of love that is just exciting and awesome (in the real original sense of that word)!
My old age dream is to dance at my Grandchildren’s weddings and now that there is a Grandchild, the dream has sprung to life in a new way!How fun is this? I did not buy one of those Grandma things for myself!!
August 21st, 2007 at 9:00 pm
I almost fell out of my chair laughing at “What Happens At Grandma’s.”