Move Over Grandma and Grandpa

Remember when grandparents were simply known as Grandma or Grandmom, Nanna or Nanny, MomMom, Grandpop or Granddad, PopPop or Pop?  I might be missing a couple. Meemaw anyone? And Bubbe and Zayde, if you are Jewish.  But you get the idea.  Basic. Traditional.  A name that clearly identified your relationship to the child.

Like a lot of things exposed to the passages of time, and the proclivities of both the Boomers (don’t call me old) and their Millennial children (don’t call me traditional) who are now becoming parents, these names have changed. Oh, some grandparents today may still go by these names, but that is becoming a rarity, kind of like the Eastern Lowland Gorilla, which is to say, on the critically endangered list.

I come by this knowledge first hand, having just become a grandparent for the first time this past September.

The question everyone asked me was, what are you going to be called?  I looked around at my friends and family who had become grandparents, along with social media, and a google search, and realized there was nary a Grandmom or Grandpop among them.

What there was, was: Gigi, Mimi, Nina, NuNu, Gaga, Lolli, Lovey, Glammy, Bibi, Gammy, Gam-Gam, G-Ma.  There seems to be more variations for grandmother names.  So far for grandfathers I’ve only come across Poppy, Pops, Papi, Papa, G-Pa, JJ, and my personal favorite, Grandude.

I pondered this ‘what will I call myself ‘question for some time.  I did have at least 9 months until the baby was born. 

I considered what I called my one grandmother, Nanny.  I loved her so much. I felt like there could be no other Nanny in the world, though.  It was hers.  So I scratched that.

My mother was called Nana.  But see above.  That was my mother’s.

I did not like Grandma or any variations thereof.  Too old. (Remember? Boomer, don’t call me old).

I considered my Italian heritage and thought Nonna could be good.  I also liked Abuela and thought that was pretty.  My daughter however, immediately put the kabosh on that stating that I wasn’t Hispanic.  No cultural appropriation on her watch.  Fortunately, she loved Nonna and gave that her full blessing.

So, Nonna it is.  And Ernie chose Poppy.

But here’s the thing I heard tell.  You can spend all this time and thought into your grandparent name, but in the end, you may end up with a completely different name.  One that your grandchild gives you because when they try to say, Nonna for example, it may come out Noma, or Nono, or Nuna, or who knows what.  And that will be the name that sticks. 

And that will be the name you will love more than what you picked out yourself.

What’s in a name? More than you may know.