Pope Francis, the Duchess of Cambridge, and Ama. What’s in a name? One day, a man called Jorge wins an election and his life changes. One day, Catherine Middleton says “I do” and nothing is ever the same for her. And one day my son says, “He’s arrived” and my world is immediately different. What do Francis, Kate, and I have in common? Beyond the fact that our states have shifted, we accepted new names when that happened. I’ve been thinking. “Is it common for mothers who become grandmothers to agonize over their new identity?”

My mother never revealed if she actually liked to be called “grandma” by all her children’s children. I remember that my mom was ambivalent at first about being a grandmother. She warned me NEVER to count on her to babysit. “I did my bit when I raised all you kids”, she insisted, “I’m done with wiping noses”. She seemed distant emotionally from my babies and my sisters had the same experience. But by the time my little brothers grew up and became dads, mom was first in line for cuddles. I think I inherited some ambivalence from my mother.

My sister Judi was the first of my siblings to cross the grandmother threshhold. When her daughter produced a son, Judi seized her new name, Gammy. It sounded weird to me. “Where did that come from?” I asked her. Judi explained that her naming was strategic. She wanted her husband Tom, who was not her daughter’s dad, to embrace grandfatherhood. So she had asked Tom what he had called his grandparents. “Gammy and Bamp”, he had said, his eyes glistening. So Judi quickly said, “Well, I’m Gammy too. Will you be Bamp?” Tom grinned. If a ploy, Judi insists her naming strategy worked like a charm. Bamp is the total grandfather. “Even now”, Judi says, “when his pre-teen grandsons rasp ‘hi Bamp’ while waving at him across the hockey rink, he’s still charmed”. Judi smiles, “honestly, Janet , he has a lot of memory packed in that name.”

My husband Ed’s kin called their grandfather “Padre”. He can’t say how a stuffy Scottish preacher, steeped in conservative Highland tradition, took on a Spanish noun. He’s even less sure how his wife automatically became Madre, but thinks it is just wonderful that they were a matched set that way. Even stranger to me was how Madre and Padre never used their own names after that, except on a rare legal document.

Ed has always disliked his name. For years he’s wanted everyone to call him “Lalo” instead. This is the diminutive form of Eduardo, and it’s usually a child’s name. Ed doesn’t care. Lalo rings sweetly to him. To his chagrin, Lalo has not gained traction in the family and we have still insisted on calling him Ed. Grandfatherhood however, has opened a new opportunity for Ed to be Lalo. He tells everyone to call him that, not just the new grandson. “I will be just like Padre”, he chortles.

“Would you like to be Lalita?”, he has asked. Snarling “no!”, this has got me thinking about what I really want to be called. My obvious choice was my inheritance, “grandma”. It is taken though, by my grandson’s maternal grandmother. I asked my friends what they were called, names like nanny or granny or nona kept popping up. One friend took a name suggested by village people she visited in Afghanistan. Whatever their choices, all my friends assured me that it should not be too odd or “cutsie”, and should be easy to say. But most of all, they advised, it should be a name I would love to hear.

This is how I became “Ama”. It is the first name on Google’s list of “trendy” names, and I think of myself that way. Besides, if my grandson can be called Cedar, then I should follow his lead. I know Ama will be one of the first sounds that Cedar babbles, and I can picture him scrawling it on a fridge drawing. I can hear myself being called across the hockey rink, “Ahhhhh Maaaa” and that does not feel weird. (A hockey rink? That’s another story!) My new name is laden with meaning. In many languages, it is mother. In Spanish, ama is an action verb, meaning he loves. On the internet, the short form of “Ask Me Anything” is my name.

I’m sure Jorge thought deeply before he chose Pope Francis. Kate no doubt drew a deep breath when she was told that her name would be the Duchess of Cambridge, and said, OK. I think I’ve done well with my choice. Janet is now Ama. I will smile when my grandchildren call me that.

What names do other Island Women have for their grandparent identity? How do those names happen? I’d like to hear more about this.

Janet Dunnett Janet Dunnett has lived in Qualicum Beach since she retired from the Federal Government seven years ago. Now she likes to write and have tea with friends, often talking to them about how to create a better world.

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