The Namer

In 1957, at her parents’ Manton campground cabin, she asked Beverly, “Who’s that guy?”
“My cousin.”
“I’m going to marry him.”
And she did.

When she met my cousin Donald, she declared, “We already have one Donnie in the family. (Her brother.) We’ll call you George.”
And we did.

When her cousin married a man named Merlin, she said, “We already know a Merlin, so we’ll call you Oscar.”
And we did.
When this Merlin died a few years ago, his wife named her dog Oscar.

When our bunnies had babies, she told them, “No names for you. We’re going to eat you.”
And we did.

I brought a puppy home. She picked him up, looked him in the eye, and said, “Your name is Toby Jake.”
And it was.

I was trying to cook while she was dying. She told me, “Cutting boards are for rich people.”
And every time I pull out a cutting board, I remember my wealth.

A few days later, she said, “We’ve had a good life. I’m going to Heaven, and you’re going to have another good life.”
She did, and I am.