When I became old enough to know the game of teasing, it wasn’t long before I realized that I could get a rise out of my dad’s mother by calling her Granny, or for that matter, Grandma. She wouldn’t have it, and she emphasized that her offspring’s offspring were to call her Grandmother. No exceptions! I always thought this appellation was rather insipid. It was more of a third-person reference and lacked nuance. This was my grandmother Margaret Virginia Dunaway, the woman they nicknamed “Tiger” back in the late 50s after she ripped a campaign sign from the roof of a political opponent’s vehicle. Surely we could have done better than “Grandmother”. But that’s the way it was.
This makes me think of the lore of names and terms of endearment. People in all families, particularly in the English-speaking world, refer to and address their parents and grandparents in a variety of ways. Here are a few that come to mind from my father's side of my family.
Lore comes from the old English word leornian, which simply means “to learn.” It is reasonable then to include the practices of addressing and naming as a kind of lore, especially since these names are learned from others, their origins often being lost to the mists of time. For instance, I have no idea why, but Margaret’s mother, Julia Mae Maraman (my great grandmother), was known to us as "Mimi". Perhaps it was a spinoff of her middle or maiden names. As far as I’m aware, she was pleased with the sound of it, so that’s what we called her; all of us – my dad and his sister, my mom, me, my cousins, even Grandmother and Granddad (that’s what I called my dad’s father, Clarence Otho White, by the way). |
Just briefly, while we are on the subject of Mimi, let’s not forget her sister Marguerite Nell Maraman. When talking with all of us, she referred to herself as "Aunt Reat". It sounded a little unusual, if you think about it. But who were we to argue? That’s what we called her. Maybe she felt her full name was a little too long, or that it sounded too similar to Margaret. Now, having an Aunt Reat sticks in the brain, though I might just as well have been pleased to call her Aunt Nelly if she’d let me.
Let’s go just a little further back. As a child, I used to spend much time at Grandmother’s house. There was a bedroom with a TV and my Nintendo gaming system, a little place I could call my own, sort of. I say “sort of” because the room still had the actual owner’s antique nightstands and lamps next to the twin beds. And as I watched afternoon reruns on the television, to my left was a beautiful cherry-wood dresser drawer. On its top were pictures of Grandmother, Granddad, Mimi, along with other family members. Before I had any understanding of ancestral research, I was every day reminded of these people who came before me – my people. There was an oval frame with a painted portrait of a woman in her twenties or early thirties. She was dressed in clothing that surely reflected the late 1800s, and the hairstyle to match. This was the mother of Mimi and Aunt Rete. Grandmother called her "Grandmother Doss". Therefore, we all, and I mean “all”, called her Grandmother Doss.
The problem with this name is that it did not really represent who she was to us. Edna Pearl Allen was born in 1876 in Kentucky. She married a man named Albert Abraham Maraman on October 12, 1895, and together they had three daughters: Annice Viola, Julia Mae, and Marguerite Nell. They migrated down to Neches, Texas in Anderson County sometime before 1909, the year that Albert passed away. Edna remarried a man named Charles Wesley Doss in 1910, the couple having two sons (Charles Jr. and James), and she continued out her long life in Neches until she passed away in 1971.
So this is why she was known to us as Grandmother Doss, though I think it might have been more accurate for us to call her Grandma Maraman. But Grandmother wouldn’t have accepted it, I am sure; and it’s quite a chore to convince others at this point. (There is lots to say about my second great grandmother, Grandmother Doss/Maraman. She was both an industrious and accomplished woman. I was kind of waiting to begin writing about her because I have yet to find that beloved picture in the oval frame. I think it must mean more to me than anyone else. Let me know if you know of its whereabouts.)
So this is why she was known to us as Grandmother Doss, though I think it might have been more accurate for us to call her Grandma Maraman. But Grandmother wouldn’t have accepted it, I am sure; and it’s quite a chore to convince others at this point. (There is lots to say about my second great grandmother, Grandmother Doss/Maraman. She was both an industrious and accomplished woman. I was kind of waiting to begin writing about her because I have yet to find that beloved picture in the oval frame. I think it must mean more to me than anyone else. Let me know if you know of its whereabouts.)
And then what do we do with Albert’s parents, William F. Maraman (1846-1914) and Missouri Gillen (1845-1915)? A couple of portraits of these two were in the possession of my Aunt Gloria and have the names “Pappy Maraman” and “Mammie Maraman” handwritten on the back sides. There’s got to be a story in those inscriptions somewhere. If you know, please do tell.
Despite the seeming randomness of all this name-assigning, it actually gives families a way to keep things organized, for the most part. In Chinese culture, these designations are already predetermined and established in the language, and it is probably about the same for every family. For us, they come into existence with a touch of chance. It all works out in the end. At some point in the future, we’ll revisit this subject for family members on my mother’s side. So what are some of the unique ways your family addresses or refers to grandparents, aunts and uncles, etc.? Share in the comments.