There is a name I treasure more than any at this time of my life. The name is “Nana.” I chose this name when I learned I would be a grandmother. My daughter was going to have a baby. She was becoming a mother; and, I was becoming a grandmother. How wonderful!

I needed a new name that would be mine, a name that would be the only name my granddaughter would call me. My grandmothers were called “Grammie” and “Nanny,” but only the name “Nana” was right for me. I wonder now why I clutched this name so tightly and knew instinctively that “Nana” was my new name. Maybe because I love the Irish in me and wanted to be an Irish Nana binding me to all of my McMurray ancestors. “Nana” meant roots, County Down, hardships, crossing, settler, log cabin, births, deaths, father, love. There’s a lot that goes into a name.

Within the last year, my toddler granddaughter has spoken my name. At first she said, “Nina,” (maybe she had her own ideas about who I should be!) but now at three years old, she calls me by “Nana.” Whenever she calls out to me, my heart does a little dance of joy. I like this new identity, a new way of being, a new joyful me.

For my granddaughter’s third birthday, I wrote a poem called, “My Nana Says I’m a Jumping Bean.” With no small measure of pleasure, I loved writing this poem for her. Long after I am gone, maybe she will read it to her granddaughter and tell her it was her Nana that gave her this poem. I share it with all of you, my traveling companions on this beautiful pilgrimage called life. May the words of this poem put a lightness in your step as we travel this path together.

My Nana Says I’m a Jumping Bean

My Nana says I’m a jumping bean
Because I like jumping on my bed.
Doesn’t she know I have
Fairies dancing in my head!

When I jump high
Guess where I am?
I’m in the sky!
I can reach the stars.
I can touch the moon.
I can fly from here to there.
I can go anywhere!

My favorite place is on my star
A beautiful silver-sequined star
A star that glitters like a fish in the sea.
Now I’m a flying mermaid –
Yes, that’s me!

My Nana says it’s time to go to sleep.
I give her a kiss and hop into bed.
But the fairies are dancing in my head.
Nana, please come and jump with me.
We both can fly and soar like silver
Mermaids in the sky!

And, you know what,
We did!

The simple act of writing a note to a dear friend or writing a poem to my three year-old granddaughter can open up springs of joy in my heart. I feel a buoyancy of spirit, a lightness of being. Perhaps, writing for me is the source of wholeheartedness. In the process of writing, I allow myself to be carried by the currents of my heart. I wholeheartedly let my heart flow on paper or on a digital screen. Writing this short reflection and sharing it with all of you exercises my heart to open myself to a larger audience, to not be afraid to let my voice carry to strangers who are on the same journey. Blessings.

Thank you, kindred spirit, for sharing the joy you experience in writing and receiving a handwritten note or letter. I, too, am elated when a “real” letter or card with a note shows up in my mailbox from a dear friend or family member. What brings such joy from this simple act? Perhaps, we feel the sender’s presence in a palpable way from not only the substance of the letter or note but by the very fact it was written by his or her own hand. I think there is a special pathway from the heart to the hand to the pen to the paper. The handwritten letter tells me in a heart-felt way that I am fully present to this person. I feel precious and valued. I love to read and re-read these letters and notes. Each time brings warmth and joy and a profound sense of connection and aliveness..