I’m very sentimental with names. In naming my daughter, she has a name that both my husband and I share, and her middle name is both her paternal Nana’s name and my late maternal Nana’s name. This time around, we’ve had to come up with 2 boys and 2 girls names, as we still don’t know what sexes the twins are. We should hopefully find out next week, but I digress.
My aunt, uncle and cousins were out from the UK in July/August, and we had a lunch date before they left Durban for Johannesburg. We were chatting names, and I’d mentioned that I was really battling to find names on my paternal side of the family that I liked and wanted to name the twins after. I was then informed of a very interesting little fact; my late Gogo, who was someone that I admired, respected and looked up to in every aspect, was not given her own name in a sense. In the 1930’s, when she was born, you had to have registered your child within 2 days of he/she being born. Her parents hadn’t yet decided on a name, and so named her after her mother; both first and second names! Their intention was to change her name once they had chosen a name for her, but it never happened, and her name stuck. It might seem insignificant, but it really made my jaw drop. Such an amazing woman, such a strong woman, such an independant woman was never named as such.
So even though there was nothing overly ‘special’ about my Gogo’s name, she was beyond special to me.