Just Call Me G-Diddy
Posted by Martha & Greg Singleton , Wednesday, May 28, 2008 9:18 AM
Yep, it’s true. I’m going to be somebody’s grandpa. It really seems difficult to believe until I’m standing in front of the mirror to shave in the mornings. And then I realize I guess I really am old enough after all.
When Annie first called us to give us the news, there was a flurry of conversation between Annie, Martha and myself about who would get to tell whom about the upcoming blessed event. After all the territory was established, I got to tell the girl who gives me my coffee at Starbucks, and a total stranger who was in line in front of me at the grocery store checkout. Thus, the pecking order was set, and I understood completely where grandpas ranked.
Ever since the news broke, I’ve had a lot of people offer their congratulations, and a few more who found it necessary to inform me that it means I’m really getting old. But, most of them asked me one question – what is the baby going to call me. I hadn’t even considered that until so many folks started asking, but I soon decided it was worth my attention.
“Grandpa” is much too pedestrian, and “grandfather,” much too formal. “Gramps” is a sitcom character and “Pops” runs a bait stand at the coast. We can’t use “Poppa” because Martha and I both called our grandfathers that. I searched the internet and found a website that exhausted all the possible names for grandfathers, even allowing for people to make their own suggestions. In Norway, it’s “bestpappa.” That might be a bit pretentious, but I like the sentiment. “Big Daddy” could be a 50’s beatnik or, at least, a constant reminder that I needed to stick with my diet. “BopBop?” Isn’t that an anime cartoon character? “Bubba?” Too redneck. The animal names listed, like “Granddog,” “Fish,” “DuckDuck,” and “Turtle” were just too ridiculous to even consider. Then, there was a whole list of them that described unflattering personality traits - “Grumpy,” “Chippy,” “Grunt,” “Kinky” and “Honey” among them.
Right now, I’m leaning toward one that Annie came up with – “G-Diddy.” It’s very cool and current, and it definitely makes a statement. The only problem I foresee is that I would have to buy some expensive sunglasses and a new wardrobe, and trick out my Expedition in order to live up to the hype.
Actually, I’m not going to worry about the whole name thing any more. I’ve decided that the baby will call me whatever he/she wants to call me. Grandfathers rarely have a choice in the matter. One thing I am concerned about, though, is what that grandchild will call me fifty years from now. When that baby grows up and is about to become a grandparent for the first time, I want to be remembered fondly. I want them to remember that I was always joyful and that I was a source of encouragement and strength. I want them to recall my prayers for them, my kind words, and the fact that I was always willing to listen. I want the words “steadfast,” “gracious,” “wise,” and “loving” to be synonymous with my name. I want my grown-up grandchild to remember my passion and my faith. I want to leave that kind of legacy.
