What's in a name

Everyone always asks the reason behind a baby’s name. With Ethan we didn’t really have a “reason” we just liked the names Ethan and Harrison. With Ian we do have a reason. Ian, according to the baby name dictionary means “gracious gift of God.” While we certainly agree that is the case, we picked the name Ian because it went well with Kenneth.

My maternal grandfather was named Thomas Kenneth Aldridge. Some knew him as T.K., some of his co-workers called him Tom, his wife always referred to him- in my hearing- as Kenneth, but to me he will always be Pappa.

When I was in grade school and high school my parents would send my younger brother and I to spend a week or two with my mother’s parents. Gramma would sew clothes for us, feed us, entertain us and handle all the necessary (and it was often necessary) discipline. Pappa offered quieter companionship. He showed us how to do basic woodworking and took us fishing. He loaned me books, for he was a great devotee of the written word. He didn’t seem to have a favorite genre but he was partial to mysteries and histories. We did crossword puzzles together. We were both atrocious spellers so Gramma and Adrian would always laugh and correct our mistakes.

My fondest memories of Pappa come from sitting on the couch or lying stretched out on the floor watching baseball. Pappa was religious in his devotion to UK basketball and his acerbic comments didn’t invite much participation from us grandkids while the game was on. In fact, we were often actively discouraged from making a sound while the game was being played. Baseball, though, was different. We would watch afternoon Reds games or stay up late to watch the Dodgers play. My brother didn’t like baseball too much so it was often just Pappa and I. We would sit in silence and watch the game. We could go whole innings without either of us uttering a word, but there was something companionable in that silence. Pappa taught me the solace of silence enjoyed in company of loved ones. With Pappa you didn’t have to talk while together. It was enough to just.. be.

Pappa loved us, but he wasn’t openly affectionate. We’d hug in greeting or to say goodbye, but we didn’t constantly vocalize our feelings. He knew and we knew. When I was a teenager I came downstairs one afternoon to find him quietly standing over the sleeping form of my infant cousin Lena. He wasn’t touching her or saying a word. The look on his face is something I will never forget. He looked up and saw me standing there. He left the room without saying a word, but I knew in my soul that he loved that little baby girl lying on the bed.

My Pappa died in December 2002 just 5 weeks after Ethan was born. I know he was very worried about Mark and I “having a child up there all alone in the big city with no family around”. It is one of my biggest regrets that he died never having seen or held his great grandson. I try very hard to be the best parent I can and maybe part of that is the subconscious urge to make Pappa proud of me.

I’d like to think that if Pappa were here with us today I would come downstairs to find him relaxing in his comfy over-sized chair with Ethan settled in the crook of his arm. They’d be watching baseball, trading quiet comments about the color of the grass in the outfield, a particularly wild pitch, or how silly that first baseman looks with his socks pulled up high. Maybe I’d turn a corner and find Pappa staring down at Ian’s sleeping form with that same look of loving awe.

Kenneth, in the baby name dictionary, means handsome one.

For me it will always mean love.