I get the “Oh, that’s an interesting name!” response often. Fortunately, most people have enough manners to withhold the “Oh, that’s an interesting child!” response once they’ve experienced a few minutes with the Piper. They’re usually too busy laughing or staring with open mouths. We’ll continue today sorting out the business of how Piper became a Piper. Here we go.
In Grandpa’s second guest blog, he’ll share his Piper naming story:
Grandma and I have always known the secret to Piper. We know why she is the way she is. It’s simply her destiny.
The naming as I see it: I am responsible, at least partially. My great friend Dean and I were on one of our weekly fishing trips. I can’t remember if this was one where we talked and fished or just talked. Many times we have to remind each other to put our lines in the water.
He was telling me the great joy his new great-granddaughter was. Her name is Piper. He told me her name fit perfectly. I asked permission to use Piper in a future, yet to be determined naming opportunity. Since he freely granted permission, I tucked the information away not knowing when that opportunity might present itself.
Now here, I have to be careful. My daughter, Piper’s keeper, is a strong-willed, opinionated woman who does not take direction well. And she wonders where Piper gets her stubbornness. They’re both probably better of for it.
It took some time to slyly suggest the name. I think I said “Piper” in every conversation we had until the great naming ceremony. I said “Piper” when I coughed. I reminded her that her alma mater, Monmouth College, had a Pipe Band and bagpipe players. Apparently it worked.
Piper is the perfect name for this child. The name is English in origin and means “flute player.” And that seems exactly what she is.
Piper lives for joy in the moment. She should be a lesson to us all.
I actually think she is trying to raise us. I hope she succeeds.
Grandpa also offers sage advice about the quest for lalaloopsys. Check it out.