What's In A Name?

Tomorrow I'm going to Oklahoma to visit my thirteen-month-old grandson. (While I'm there I will probably say hello to his parents as well!) He calls me GG; well, I'm sure he will call me such when he really starts talking. When he talks to me on the phone, in a language only grandmothers can understand, I'm certain he's saying GG.

In May of 2007 we found out about the expected grandchild. All of us were excited, since he would be the first one on both sides. We, the grandparents, were all asked what we would like to be called. I did not have to think about it at all. I would be GG. Now, my Grandmother Williams was very particular about her name. She must be called Grandmother, because Granny, or Grandma sounded like an old person. My own mother was the same way when my children came along, and her older grandchildren call her Grandmother or Grandmommy, and the younger set calls her Mimi.

Several years before I even had married children, I decided I would be GG to their children. I was playing in a tennis tournament in Brady one weekend. One of my friends that I had not seen in a couple of years was playing in the event as well. As we were catching up, she mentioned that she had been keeping her grandchildren. I'm not even sure how the subject came up, but in the course of conversation she mentioned that her grandchildren called her GG. "What does that stand for?" I asked. With a broad grin and a twinkle in her eye, Carolyn replied, "Gorgeous Grandmother!" Right then and there I latched on to "GG."

Fast forward several years. Today I was playing in another tournament in San Angelo, and Carolyn was there. I had not seen her since the Brady tournament. As we hugged, I reminded her of that story and told her I now had a grandson and I'm his very own GG. Laughing, she relayed the story of her own adoption of the name GG, telling that she had been in a grocery line one day having a conversation with an elderly lady. The woman told her of her grandchildren, saying they called her GG. "It means Gorgeous Grandmother," said the lady, having a similar twinkle in her eye.

Whatever my little grandson actually decides to call me will be just fine with me. I hope it's GG, since he will be setting the tone for all the other grandchildren to come. I would also like the opportunity to pass along the name to some other potential Gorgeous Grandmother out there somewhere. Legacy.....

Why Legacy?

"Legacy is a strategic commitment to link your
resources through covenantal relationships
to your generational responsibilities, which
will result in an eternal reward."
Legacy Now, p. 5

Everything you do (or don't do) matters.

One warm summer night in 1961 my father brought home something I had never seen before: a television set. I remember the first program I ever watched was the candy factory episode of I Love Lucy. I was almost six. My grown children, now inching into their thirties, have enjoyed the same program many times, and likely, my one-year-old grandson will see it at some point. We lived in El Paso, Texas, and with the rabbit ears could pick up two channels. On Saturday nights we watched Gunsmoke and on Sunday nights it was Bonanza. Once in a while on Saturday mornings we caught episodes of Mighty Mouse, Sky King or Fury.

I have absolutely no recollection of sitting around the tv for hours on end the way people do today. Television was a very insignificant part of our lives. My memories instead include roller skating on steel skates, riding bikes, swimming, jumping rope, and reading lots of books in the hot part of the day. We even built our own skate boards when we lived on Silver Street. There was a long, steep hill from my house to the bottom of the block, and we would ride those homemade skate boards in the middle of the street, from the top to the bottom, nonstop. On weekend nights, we would play hide-and-go-seek until midnight when we would reluctantly retreat inside after our parents summoned us more than once. Even as a teenager I was either sewing, playing basketball, or holding down at least one job. Everything you do (or don't do) matters.

On to the title of my blog: Legacy. Legacy has been stirring in my heart for several months now. Pondering such lends itself to some very sobering conclusions. Unless one is acutely aware of how far-reaching one's actions, attitudes, and beliefs are, and how lineage is forever affected, much of our day-to-day routine will be just that: routine. Not necessarily meaningless, but liable to be lost in the shuffle of "ho-hum" and "who cares." So I ask myself the question: What kind of a legacy am I leaving? To this day I credit my mother, in particular, for setting such an example of standard and work ethic that I see little purpose in the mindless television watching that seems not only to mesmerize much of society but in some ways cripple creativity and stunt relationship growth. What will my children, grandchildren, even the random person crossing my path take away that will affect THEIR legacy? Everything you do (or don't do) matters.

So! I have decided to write this blog and relate it to legacy. Before you hit that little red X up in the corner, sending this to cyberspace trash, allow me to note that this will not be just a cute little collection of family stories, although those may occasionally enter in for the sake of illustration. The goal is to explore rarely-considered territory of legacy by delving into its heart through the back roads of seemingly unrelated subjects. I hope you will join me from time to time, because, everything you do (or don't do) matters.