What's In A Name?

What's in a name? That's the question this week on Tuesday Tell All. And this, my friends, is my first OFFICIAL week posting on it - correctly (*I hope*)...

I toyed with the idea of telling about how we chose our kids' names. But not for very long. This time it's going to be about the mama! This mama, in fact. My name at birth was Leah Margarette Hancock. I also answer to Emily, Joella, Alyson, Joel, Mike, Emaleah Joalyson (thank you Brent!), and Leah Margarette Hancock Junior. I've been told if there were such a thing as a Margarette Junior, I'd have been it. For that, I am immensely proud and touched. I do recall (are you as surprised as I am? - I recall something! HALLELUJAH!) pretty clearly what it was like having the name Leah Margarette Hancock, as a little girl. I didn't really care for Margarette. It was too different from the Anns, Maries, and Jeans that oftentimes followed a classmate's first name. It was long, kindof embarassing to say, for some reason, and basically not the best fit for me... Or so I thought...

Somewhere amid the growing pains of a young girl's teenage years, however, things changed. I realized, in small part, the gift I was given. I was given the name of my kind and dear grandmother. She is no longer with us, but because I'm here, and because my parents chose to pass along her name to me, she is somehow still here. (It's not just the name I got from her, by the way. Just ask my dad if he's heard Grandma Margarette laugh lately!)

Why don't I tell a few things that help to give some insight... What I recall (just about every day) about Margarette Lewis Hancock. Here's her picture, by the way...

I'm so glad this picture was saved on our family site. This picture was taken in July of 1990. It was the day of my 80-year-old grandfather's baptism. He's front and center, beside Grandma Margarette. I'm also up front, in the pretty white dress and big blonde bangs. Although you can't see it - the grosgrain bow atop my head was probably placed with a great deal of (caution - Bushism ahead!) STRATEGERY! Thank goodness I don't have to do that every day anymore. That's another Tuesday topic. ;)

Back to Grandma. I remember the countless Sunday afternoons spent in her yard, climbing trees, walking on white fences, counting cars, and chasing cousins. If there wasn't homemade light bread to sopp up the molasses, it was because we were too late, and all the goods were gone. I remember the afternoons she'd take me to town to pick out something special. My favorite find of all was always a pair of plastic high-heel shoes from the dime store. I was also pretty fond of Lee press-on nails, and I have a feeling, looking back now, that she probably spent the rest of the day worried I was going to glue my fingers together. I can still smell the glue! I remember her knee brace, her glasses, her handwriting, her beautiful blue eyes and her soft white hair. I remember the way she'd smile when I'd walk up to her for a hug, a kiss, and a smell. I remember the way she'd say "Don't I LOVE YOU!?!!!!" I remember what the inside of her kitchen cabinets looked like, and the way she'd save every drop of her drink till after her meal was all done. I remember caring for her as a teenager, when she was sick. I remember wishing those days with her would never end.

She was the epitome of good-natured, loving and kind. She was a do-gooder, and always let her extensive family and friends know how much they were loved. One day, a few years back, I was riding along in the car all alone. I was in a contemplative mood, and was really missing her. I felt her with me, though. I don't just think she was, I know she was. It was one of the most surreal experiences I've ever had. I can remember exactly where I was driving when it was happening, and 9 times out of 10, I think of her with I ever drive back through...During those moments of blissful reunion, I felt her tender spirit communicating with me, that she was proud of me. And that she's always with me...

"Way back when," when I didn't like the name... I was young... And frankly, I didn't know any better. But now I do. I know that to be named Leah Margarette Hancock, for many more reasons than I've found words to mention here tonight, was the greatest gift I could have ever been given. Thank you Ma and Pa!