Friday, January 27, 2006

Journal of a Living Lady #266

Journal of a Living Lady #266

Nancy White Kelly

Names. People are sensitive about their names for good reason. The Bible says, “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.” I like my name and am rather protective of it. I have spent a life-time defining who Nancy White Kelly is in hopes that my name will forever be spoken of with fondness and respect.

Our adopted son, Bobby, and his wife Ginger, have two precious children, Mackenzie and Alexander. The parents and big sister refer to the near 3-year-old Alexander as “Bubby.” That is okay for a nickname, but I doubt it will float too well in first grade or even kindergarten.

Bobby and Ginger prefer to call their six-year-old daughter “Macka,” which is acceptable.  It is their choice, though I much prefer Mackenzie. She is in kindergarten now. I was present when she, her mother and father made it perfectly plain that she wished to be called “Macka” at school. In spite of this, the parents got a progress report a few days ago. It was addressed to the “Parents of Cassandra Kelley.”  In bold black was a note saying that their daughter was having difficulty recognizing her name.

Good grief! For starters, Macka seldom, if ever, is referred to as Cassandra at home. The Kelly family uses only one “e” in the last name. Schools are supposed to get it right.

My birth name was Nancy Lee White. I can imagine the reaction in the White household if a letter arrived addressed to the parents of Lee Whitee.

Now that our son Charlie and wife Tori have little Micah, Buddy and I trip our tongues on Macka and Micah sometimes. That’s senility and is forgivable.

In the meanwhile, this grandmother is making sure Macka can recognize Cassandra when she sees it. Who knows when the next person will address her with that name.

The Kellys can get used to the misspelling of our last name. It happens all the time in the mountainous area where we live with the other Kelleys. But, please, get the child’s preferred name correct. And, don’t slip and call me Nelly Leigh.  My deceased parents might do the proverbial turn-over in their graves.

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