My name is a special gift from a baby angel. In 1963, my parents named me Stephanie Ann, after my father's sister, who died at the age of 4. My dad was only 2 year old when she died (1942), so he doesn't remember much about her. My grandparents told me stories about "Steffie" and I have a collection of her baby things (ie. pictures, baby book, silver rattle). She was a golden-haired little girl with a mop of curls and was the light of their lives. I love that I am named after her. It lets a part of her live on and makes me feel tied to family. In 2003, my sister named her youngest daughter Evelyn Stephanie, after me. I didn't know of her plan to give the baby my name ahead of time. I was in the hospital room when Evie was born. When Beth said her name, I burst into tears. This time my name was a gift to a baby angel. The love just keeps getting passed on from one generation to the next. How heavenly is that?!
This makes me cry no matter how often I read it-thanks for sharing your head and heart with us. I still can't seem to find the little essay you wrote about strong women-do you know what I am thinking of?
ReplyDeleteLove you, baby!