A voice is calling out to me. Crouched down on my knees in the soil, my focus shifts from the base of the dandelion I am trying to dig out to the stone wall at the back edge of the garden. My eyes travel from soil to sky, and I see the silhouette of a woman standing with her hands in her pockets looking down at me.
“Hi! What is your name?” she inquires.
”Leslie. What’s your name?”
”I’m Nancy.”
From that first moment of contact, which began with our names, our friendship quickly established itself within the ethos of gardening, caregiving, animals, spirituality, nature, the forming of our women’s group–the Garden Goddesses, and a collaborative creation of a new logo for our church.
And talking…all the while…talking.
Like good friends do.
Almost two decades later on an early Spring afternoon, we are walking in the Morris Arboretum on a Goddess outing. We peel off down a small path ahead of the group towards the old log cabin next to a babbling brook.
”My second great-niece was just born!”
”Oh, Nanc, congratulations to you and your family!”
”Thank you! She is the last of this next generation. I want to do something to commemorate all three of their births. When I was driving, NPR was on the radio and a Native American writer was talking about names and the importance of names. She commented that our parents gave us our first gift, our name. This story led me to an idea! A clear way to differentiate each one, as they were born in three different seasons. Might be interested in illustrating them in your watercolor style?”
Ohhh!! Another collaborative creation perhaps?
”Yes! I would be honored to!”
We hugged, and I was struck by the significance of something I have never quite exactly thought twice about…our names. My rambling thoughts lead me to signatures, nicknames, and how we can often figure out what era and culture a person was born into. Some sound serious, whereas others have a playful quality to them. Our name is our primary identifier if we are in the hospital, boarding an airplane, or applying for a job. And after we die, our name is typically carved into stone so our loved ones know how to find us.
The first words Nancy and I uttered to each other were our names.
These sweet great-grandbabies are learning what their names are by hearing everyone around them repeating them over and over again.
So, over the next few months, we immerse ourselves in our naming project…a discovery of fonts, colors, and symbols. And lots of talking, but of course!
This was sooooo fun to do. Methodical, experimental, and collaborative. A few of our favorite things!
