Crashing In and Pushing Off

This Monday, 15 August 2011, my amazing, wonderful, loving, funny, caring grandfather passed away.

It wasn't entirely a shock, as his health had gone downhill recently, but he was always larger than life in my mind; I thought he would live forever. Witty, smart, fun, warm. The perfect patriarch, he supported his children and grandchildren, pushed us when we needed pushing, helped us up when we scraped our knees, gave us countless hugs, kisses, and smiles. I am so grateful that I was able to spend time with him when I was home for my bachelorette party two weekends ago. I cherish those hours we spent together.

I keep thinking of moments I had with him - each smile and phrase leads to another memory, another moment spent together. More stories, more emotions. It's funny how thoroughly my interations with him are woven throughout my memories of childhood, growing up, and into adulthood. He was so present in the lives of his children and grandchildren. I grasp at these fragmented thoughts and memories, writing them down so I don't forget.

He was so excited about our wedding, and I am incredibly sad that he will not be there to witness our love and joy that day. Always social and out-going, he loved big events and relished in time spent with family and friends. With just over a week until our wedding, his passing has left me with a rip-tide of emotions that I am still trying to process.

A deep mourning, of course. He has been a rock of stability in my life for so long that, while I feel a keen sense of loss and a quiet, persistent sorrow, I also feel that the part of my life and heart that he occupied is still full, still present. I know that he will always be there.

Guilt, that I will be celebrating and happy when he is not there to join in. Guilt that my family has to continue dealing with the hassles of the wedding, when they should be focusing on family, and him.

Anger, that God called him away from us, but also acceptance and understanding that it was his time to go.

Blessed, because he was so involved in my life. Blessed, for all of the time I was able to spend with him. Blessed. Blessed and loved.

There are more, of course, but I do not care to try to examine or understand them. I just know they are present, when he is not.

He would, of course, dislike our sadness. If he were here, he would say something funny - a joke, or a witty remark - to lighten the mood and get us to smile. So, a few memories of him to make me smile:

- Bookar Park, and other nicknames
- Him, mowing the lawn in his swim trunks, always so tan from the summer sun
- Him, walking over every morning to take our dog out
- Him, eating corn on the cob outside by the fireplace
- His hands helping me find strawberries and tomatoes from the container garden
- Him, showing me how to use his old typewriter in the basement
- All of his baseball caps
- "Of course you do, my dearie"

- Him, singing with his buddies at our Christmas parties

- Him, dressing up as Santa Claus when we were little

- Him, always asking me to try lutefisk at our gatherings

- His love for Grandma

- His love of dogs

- His love for me

When we were little, we would love swimming in their pool. They filled it with icy-cold creekwater, so in the early summer the pool would be freezing. My sister, cousins and I would stand at the water's edge, dipping our toes in, not wanting to take that first dunk.

He would walk up behind us, saying "You have to do it like this. You  just crash in..." and he would plunge in backwards with abandon, "and push off!" We always shreiked with laughter, and followed suit.

I love using that phrase now, because to me, he wasn't just teaching us how to brave the cold water. He was encouraging us to pursue things we love with no reservations, to plunge in without constantly worrying, to embrace things that might make us uncomfortable or that were out of our realm of understanding, to make our mark on the world. To crash in, and push off.

Jag älskar dig, Morfar.

The Name Change Game

First, I wanted to start this post by saying that we women (okay, and I suppose men too) need to give ourselves a big, ol' pat on the back, and we need to raise a glass of something to the women who came before us. Why? Well, because we are at the point (at least in America) where there actually are name change debates, discussions, questions, thoughts, concerns, considerations. 100 years ago, it would have been very rare for an American woman to keep her last name after she was married, and I am incredibly appreciative that it is socially acceptable now for me to either keep my last name or take the last name of Mr. Candy Apple. Or, for him to take mine. Or, for us to merge our names via hyphen. Or, for us to form a completely new last name. There are so many options! It makes my feminist self leap with joy and happiness, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I am so glad I live in a time when we are making such big strides. (And yes, I say strides. Because I don't think we're actually there yet. But, we don't need to get into that right now.) I don't want to make this a post about feminism (what it is, etc. etc.) - I merely want to state my thoughts and feelings on the issue.

Anyway, yes, the Name Change Game (aka NCG). You know the one - lots of Bees have hashed this out before their weddings. I know that for many people this is a touchy subject, causing large amounts of stress, heartbreak, annoyance, grief. I am sure it can also be somewhat of a make-or-break issue in relationships.

To me, the whole NCG mainly boils down to one issue. Yes, I realize there are many things in play when considering the NCG, but for me, it comes down to those words of the wise Jean Valjean:

{Breathe Pro Font, via My Fonts}

Yes - for some reason, the whole NCG always, always conjures up the lyrics to one of my fave songs from Les Misérables (Let's be honest. They're ALL my fave songs). Particularly this part:

Who am I?
Can I conceal myself for evermore?
Pretend I'm not the man I was before?
And must my name until I die
Be no more than an alibi?
Must I lie?

{Who Am I? from Les Miserables}
 

Ahh, so good. Okay, now that I've gotten that song stuck in your head, let's move on, shall we?

When I was younger and just discovering what it means to be a feminist, I was convinced that I would keep my last name when I got married. Why the hell should I give up that piece of me, something that has been a part of me for my entire life, for a man? Something that has gone on the backs of mountains of sports jerseys and sweatshirts, something that has been used on countless documents, something that has been signed millions of times. Something that is so integral to my life, and my identity. Why should that be thrown away for some guy? If I take his last name, it will be like I am giving up a part of myself, will it not? And why should I ever sacrifice myself, as a woman, for a man? That is what people did back in the day when they bound their feet and wore whale-bone corsets. I don't want to feel like my name is a lie for the rest of my life, and I don't want to revert to old-fashioned habits that perpetuate the ideas of a woman as a man's property.

Over time, though, I have come to realize that feminism isn't necessarily about asserting your needs and wants, and eschewing all tradition. In fact, to me, feminism is consciously making these choices for ourselves. Because, well, we now have these choices. We can make these decisions ourselves!

I still do think changing my name is like giving up a part of myself. But, isn't that part of what marriage is about? Two becoming one? Giving of yourself completely to the other person? I realize this doesn't mean "you lose all of your identity when you get married." However, I do think it means that, from that day forward, the couple is bound in a way that you weren't before, in a new and sacred union.

Also, let's be frank - my last name is one of the most common last names in America. Mr. CA's last name is another common last name. It will be like I am exchanging "Johnson" for "Brown." Although I am attached to my last name (I mean, duh, I've been saying "Hi, I'm Miss Candy Apple" my entire life), my first and middle names are the gifts that I really cherish from my parents. They are so unique, and such a part of me and my identity, that replacing one generic last name for another hopefully won't be too big of an issue. I am carrying over two names into this marriage, and I love those two names. And that is enough for me. If I had a more unique last name, I probably would make more of a stand on this issue.

Another thing? I want to have the same name as my children, and I want us to be seen as a family unit. It sounds sappy, but I want us to be known as "the Apple clan." Yes, I realize Mr. CA could take my name, or we could hyphenate our names. Mr. CA is fairly traditional, though, and has stronger opinions on the NCG than I do. He wanted to keep his last name, and hinted that he would like me to take his name. He of course would never, ever demand that I take his name, but I know that it would mean a lot to him if I did. I suppose in theory I would like to keep my name, simply because I am so used to it being what it is, but not if it means having a different name than my children, or Mr. CA.

Lastly, I do not work in a field where it would be an issue to change my name (for example, I know many people with Ph.D.'s, and law and medical degrees frequently do not want to change their names). Just wanted to throw that out there.

So, I will be taking Mr. CA's last name after we get married.

In considering all of the above factors (and many more), this seems like the best decision for me, and for us as a family. Honestly, it was not as big of a soul-searching issue as I thought it would be. I didn't cry about it, I haven't freaked out over an identity crisis. I simply asked myself: Who am I? Will that change if I change my last name? How will I feel introducing myself as Mrs. Apple? Do I feel like I am being subservient to Mr. CA in changing my name? All responses and emotions and thoughts pointed to changing my last name. And I am at peace with this decision.

(Although we'll see once I actually have to legally change my name on everything!)

Do I feel like a bad feminist for taking Mr. CA's name? A little, which is totally ridiculous! I shouldn't, because I am making this choice for myself. It IS my name, after all! So it is my decision.

I realize that the NCG is so difficult for many people, and can be confusing, and emotionally-charged. Let it be; it's a big deal! It is your name! The answer doesn't have to come to you immediately. Just make sure you are thinking everything through, discussing things with your partner, and not simply going with the flow because it is how things are traditionally done. Do what is right for you.

 Did your ideas and thoughts about the Name Change Game shift over time?

Are you changing/ did you change your last name? If so, how are you coping/ dealing with the change? Was the process lengthy and difficult? (I'm scared of all the paperwork!) 

If you aren't going to/ didn't change your last name, how did your spouse feel about that? Did you feel somewhat ambivalent about the whole thing process?

Did your spouse change his last name? Did you hyphenate? Create totally new last names? I want to hear about it!