Nothing in my family is ordinary. On the surface, we look like your average American family, nothing fancy just plain folk. However, once you cross the threshold you soon realize that even the most ordinary of occasions can become extraordinary. As an example, I offer you the choosing of my name. It should be relatively easy; however, before you nonchalantly choose a name you might reevaluate the "relatively" part of easy. First, you must know that I am the only daughter of an only daughter in a family where tradition reigns supreme. Once my grandmother gets a hold of something, she will not let go! So it was on the day I was born. My parents lovingly and joyously welcomed the second addition to their family, even if the baby did come only one year and two weeks after the first. I was healthy and a girl, one of each now. My father had always liked the name Susan and the familial middle name for the first daughter was Elizabeth. This naming thing was just too easy. The first born was a son and as such bore my father's first name. By adding a middle name, they were able to safely navigate past the "jr." moniker. In Texas, this would have meant that my brother would have to be called "Bubba," "Junior," or "Little Hollis" all of which my parents wanted to avoid. They were over come with joy that with the second child they were able to call me by my full name immediately. What a joyous occasion! All the friends and family deemed the name appropriate. All was well until my grandmother walked into the room. My grandmother was not a big woman; all of the women on both sides are little, however, she had the ability to take over a room upon entering her arms laden with a layette that she had worked on lovingly for nine months. Since she knew with out a doubt that this baby was going to be a girl, the layette was a froth of pink and lace. "Well, let me see this little girl of ours." She picked me up made appropriate adult baby sounds, looked at my parents and said, "And what have we named my precious?" "Susan Elizabeth" announced my mother with pride that the tradition would carry to the fifth generation. Like a West Texas dust storm, hurt and anger swirled across her face and I've told that no storm could match the lightening that flashed in those dark brown eyes. In an overly calm voice words slow and deadly extruded from her mouth, "My only daughter named my only granddaughter Susan?' Dad trying to desperate the storm that was brewing, "Well, Mom, we thought it would be a compromise. The best of both worlds, I liked Susan and the family name is Elizabeth. We thought....." Stopped by the set of the jaw and the thunder that rumbled from unseen source she replied, "It's obvious that neither one of you were thinking at all." Like the weather in this Great State, the winds shifted and tears welled in her eyes. The thunder and lightening were replaced by the soft and gentle tears, "I can not believe that my only daughter would think so little of her mother." She returned me to my mother and left. The next day dawned with my parents still perplexed by my grandmother's display. At no time during either pregnancy had my grandmother voiced the desire to have a child named for her. What were they to do? Dad had filled out the birth certificate the morning I was born. Finally, they had decided that there wasn't much that could be done now and grandma would just have to get used to the idea that I was Susan Elizabeth and Susan Elizabeth I would stay. Besides there would be other children! They laughed at the idea of coming up with a male equivalent of Amy. As they laughed, the nurse entered bringing me in for my parents to enjoy. She turned to leave and stopped. Turning back she ventured, "I know this is none of my business, but Mrs. Grace seemed awfully upset yesterday." "Yes," said Daddy, "It seems she's not happy with our choice of names." They both laughed. "Once again, it's none of my business," she paused to gather the proper words, "Well, it just seems that if it meant that much to your mother" She stopped short as if to realize that she was out of line. "I'm sorry, really, it's none of my business." Then she quickly exited the room. Mother looked at Daddy, "Do you think she's really that upset?" "Byrd, she never mentioned it, not once." That evening, friends and family presented themselves in a steady stream. Each bearing the same story, Miss Amy was upset! She had bent the ear of any and everyone who would listen. Telling them how the ungrateful daughter and insensitive son-in-law, her only son-in-law whom she treated like a son, had slapped her in the face by not naming her only granddaughter after her. My parents decided that when my grandmother came for her visit they would try to mend the rift. As if the discussion had summoned her, in the room she walked. Desperately the new parents tried to explain, console and quiet to no avail. The hurt had been done, there was not turning back. After an hour of uncomfortable conversation my grandmother left. Day three peeked through the windows to a couple getting ready to leave the hospital and reunite the family. The couple agreed that they couldn't dwell on this "disaster" and could only pray that the famous stubborn streak that marked Mother's genetic pool would some how buckle with the coming days, weeks, months, years that she would have playing with the children. Daddy laughed and mentioned that maybe they should start working on the second daughter soon. Mother did not see the humor. The nurse entered her last time carrying the misnamed child. Daddy came to take the baby and as the transfer was made, the nurse again asserted herself. "Mrs. Page, would it really be so terrible to change the baby's name? I mean, if it means so to your mother." Daddy looked at mother and said, "What can we do? The birth certificate has already been filed." The nurse smiled, "As it happens, the certificate hasn't been taken to the courthouse yet." Mother walked over to Daddy, "What do you mean, they haven't been taken?" "Well, Dr. Barclay said that your mother would be fit to be tied and maybe we should wait a few days." Mother laughed. The joy and despair of living in a small town is that everyone knows everyone intimately. "If you want," the nurse started timidly, "We could tear up the old one and fill in the blank one that Dr. Barclay left." My parents laughed until they cried with the absurdity of the situation. Daddy looked down at me and said, "Well, Susan Elizabeth, you are about to witness the strength of the women in your family." He kissed my forehead and told the nurse to fill in the certificate with the name Amy Elizabeth. The story doesn't quite end there because Daddy and Grandma had a wonderfully playful relationship. Whenever my grandmother would call or visit Daddy would always refer to me as Little Susie just to watch her flinch. As time went on the name "Susie" became away of distinguishing between the two of us. Finally, Daddy's wish came true because "Susie" did, for all intents and purposes, become my name. To this day, certain members of the extended family do not know that my first name is actually Amy, but that's another story. "What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." |
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