Our daughter turned 40 years old on Friday, February 10, the day David's father would have turned 100. (For those who didn't do the math quickly, she was born on her Grandfather Clark's 60th birthday!) I have to admit that when the doctor told us he would be delivering her via c-section on that date, it didn't immediately register with me that it was Rob's (GrandDaddy's) birthday, but the minute we told David's parents of the scheduled date, his mama's joy was evident and is something I will treasure always.
Granddaddy and Grandma Clark, being the selfless people they were, came to our house to stay with Taylor while we checked into the hospital for Blair's delivery. By the way, she was going to be named "Blair" whether a boy or girl because that was my grandmother Shaw's maiden name. Taylor bore David's grandmother's maiden name, so we had decided to use Blair either way. I honestly can't remember what the boy's "other" name would have been (Christian maybe?), but for a girl, we had decided on "Virginia Blair." My mother had been diagnosed with colon cancer about three years earlier, and using her name as the first name just felt right. Even though she was struggling with her health and getting out was difficult, my brother, Bill, brought her to the hospital to await the arrival of our second child, my mother's sixth grandchild.
Remember, we didn't know the gender of our babies prior to delivery; in fact, I was so convinced I'd be having another boy that I asked the doctor if he was "sure" the baby was a girl. His response? "Yep, we're pretty sure about these things!" 🤣 While I was in recovery, David had the pleasure of telling her that her granddaughter had arrived and shared her name. My mother only lived eight more months after that, but I'd like to think knowing she had a granddaughter with her name made those months especially sweet. To be fair, her other granddaughter - my brother Gordon's daughter, Morgan - has my mother's maiden name. To say my mother was very loved is an understatement!
We brought Blair home on Valentine's Day, 1983, and within the first few weeks, my mother asked me to take her to a doll shop on the square in Marietta. She had already given her a Madame Alexander doll, "Huggums," when she was born, but it was important to her that we go to this particular shop. I don't even remember the name of the shop now, but they sold all types of beautiful dolls, and my mother picked out a set of boy/girl twin dolls that were about the size of toddlers she wanted Blair to have. Of course she didn't get them for a few years, but I'm sure my mother was smiling the Christmas Blair received them. My mother had strong opinions about little girls having dolls; in fact, when my mother became a grandmother to a little girl (my niece), she said to me, “Every little girl needs a Madame Alexander doll.” Thus, began the tradition in our family of giving newborn baby girls a Baby Huggums. I have continued it with my own granddaughters, Jordan, Emma, Francesca, and Caroline, my "bonus daughter's" daughter. I love family traditions, and I love sharing part of my mother's legacy with each of my granddaughters. (I'm embarrassed to say I don't know what her "boy" baby gift was, but it ALWAYS included beautiful hand-made receiving blankets.) While my mother was very much a "girls get dolls, and boys have trucks" kind of woman, there was also a time before she became ill that she thought her grandsons should have a doll, too, and got each of them an anatomically correct baby boy doll, a Baby Brother Tender Love by Mattel! Yes, my nephews and my son each had a doll! She said boys needed to know how to take care of babies, too; yeah, she was ahead of her time!
Having my second child turn 40 has definitely caused me to pause and reflect on the legacy I want to leave my own children and grandchildren. It makes me think of the Nidole Nordeman song, "Legacy." I've written about it before but it really resonates with me, especially this part:
