This past New Year’s Day, almost all the family was able to get together. In a previous blog I wrote about that and let you see for yourselves with some pictures. I had planned and prepared, everyone shared talents or enjoyed watching someone else’s talent, games were played, food was eaten, presents passed out by the little ones, and the day was just great. All the wee ones were happy as well as the not-so-wee ones.
As the day progressed, there were nine grands (ten if we count little Will who is just starting to say words — I claim them all) yelling “Gigi” for one reason or another. “Look at this.” “I have two talents.” “Thank you for my gift.” “Watch me.” “Can you get me (insert anything you can think of)?” “I have to go to the bathroom.” “Can you help me (insert anything you can think of)?” “How do you (insert anything you can think of)?”
Way back in 2002 I became a Gigi (pronounced geegee not jeejee) when my sweet Jack was born, my great-nephew. I didn’t know I was going to be a Gigi; I just knew I loved that boy and he loved me and we were going to have something very, very special.
And we did. So I began to search for a name for the special relationship, finally settling on Aunt Granny. I saw it at Dollywood, a restaurant or snack shop.
Food = Comfort = Aunt Granny.
Then my sweet Sam came along, and I fell in love all over again. I had two sweethearts instead of one.
It was about that time that little Jack started trying to say things such as “Aunt Granny.” Only it came out Gigi. At least that’s how we spell it. The two grannies in his life, his Aunt Granny and his great-grandma who everyone already called Granny were now Gigis. His grandma, my sis, was to be called Mawmaw which worked out very well because he could pronounce that.
From then on I was Gigi, and when my sweet girls, Kate and Ava, came along they picked up on Jack and Sam calling me Gigi, and that’s what they called me as well.
We are a close family and spend as much time as we can with each other (which was quite a lot at that particular time in my life) so it was very common for my grandgirls to hear the name Gigi often; thus using it themselves.
These little ones brought such joy to my life, and we played and played and played and… you get the picture.
Along came Charlotte, Owen, Maci, Henry, Nia, and now little Will. Each one has enriched my life and brought me great joy.
I have had the opportunity to play with them, spend time with them, have lots and lots of fun with them. We swim in the backyard, dance on holidays (or any time because I love to dance), play board games or make-believe and dress-up, make tents, spend time in the sunflower house, play tag or hide-and-seek, read books, have sleep-overs. If I can’t think of something, they can.
Oh, the make-believe! Jack has my fun, make-believe gene, and that boy can lead the pack in superhero play or make a jungle out of a blah backyard or create ninja warriors (girl and boy ninjas) or have an awesome hide-and-seek game. Anything he starts, the rest of them follow. Our own pied piper. He is older now but still takes time to play with them. And they all love him. The superhero cousin.
He has all the makings of a Gigi.
At the end of all the New Year’s Day festivities, as we were all settling down, packing up presents and food, Maci turned to her Mawmaw and said,
“How do you get to be a Gigi?”