At times its hard to believe the number of years we've been without her almost outweigh the number of years I knew her. I was just 16 when she passed away. She was 83.
I don't dream often, and dream of people even less. But on August 18th, 2008, I woke up at 5:00 am after having a dream about my Grandma. There isn't much I remember, but in my dream she told me there was a baby. I went and took a test right then, and the test was positive. I nearly fell into the wall I was so completely freaked out. Nine months later we had Sully, and throughout that entire pregnancy, I always felt she was a force watching out for him. I hadn't dreamed of her since, until a few days before this St. Patty's Day, when she showed up in my dream again. She didn't say anything this time, but she was rocking a baby. Two days later, another positive.
I wish I had an explanation, because truthfully, I'm not sure what I think. Is she somewhere out there letting me know because she knows? Or is it merely a coincidence and some sub-conscience trick of the brain? Either way, I know I miss her to this day and have always wished she had the chance to know my family. Who knows, maybe she does. It's nice to think of it that way sometimes.
When we found out this baby was a boy, and our last, I knew I was sure of one thing - I wanted his middle name to be Willingham. I love my husband so completely for agreeing to it right off the bat, knowing what it meant to me.
The kid's first name was a completely different story.
There were days I wanted to strangle him. If I threw out 1 name to him, I threw out 200. I swear he had a criteria list. Nothing stuck. We agreed on nothing. Neither of us loved anything we came across. Sully kept calling Blueberry "Jack". In fairness that kid has been calling his hypothetical brother "Jack" for two years now because it happened to be the name of one of his favorite, now ex-King hockey players. And it just kind of became a running joke in the family. But he kept calling the baby Jack. And when people would ask about the baby, he'd tell them its name was Jack. The kids at school and his teachers were asking me if we had named the baby Jack. And then he had our family calling the baby Jack. And before we knew it, he had us calling the dang baby Jack.
We both found that we actually really liked the name, and like turned into loving the name because it came from Sully and obviously meant so much to him. He thinks its the coolest thing ever that he named his baby brother, and I'm sure he'll hang that over his head for the rest of his life.
And that's how our 'lil Jack Willingham came to be. It seems like he's never been anything but Jack Willingham.
I love his name as much as I love Sullivan's. I love what it means to us.
Sully & Jack
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