Vibrant asked us to write about why we were given our user names. We were to write less than 50 words I did that on his blog, but decided to get a bit nostalgic and wrote “what might have been” on this post. Check: https://blabberwockying.wordpress.com/2015/12/16/story-behind-your-wordpress-username/
Brown-eyed, dark haired, twenty year old Amy opened the range lid and stirred the embers into renewed flames in the half dugout in which she and Pete lived in the flat plains of southeastern Colorado. The door at ground level at the top of the steps opened and shut, six shuffles as footsteps came down. The door into the room opened and a man stepped in.
“Daddy,” Amy called as she received his hug. Straight in from a two hundred mile cattle drive, Daddy Clyde was cold and brought a surge of cold air in with him as he stretched his hands to the newly stirred flames.
“I’m so glad you got back in time for Christmas and,” Amy blushed, “maybe you’ll be here when the baby comes.”
Clyde observed his “large-with-child” daughter, and answered, “I’ll be around for a couple of months.” He took a small burlap bag out of his pocket and placed it on a side table where three other Christmas gifts were waiting under the 30 inch high tree branch with twigs all wrapped in green crepe paper.
“Sorry, Daddy, that I don’t have anything for you.”
“If I can read signs right, looks like you will have a baby bunting to share before long. My first grandchild. That’s quite a gift! Don’t need nothing else. – Well, maybe one thing. If you have a boy, would you name him Clyde, after me?”
“Okay, but what if it’s a girl?”
“In that case, name her Oneta.”
So, eighty-one Christmases later, here I am – Oneta. I don’t really know any details of why my grandfather wanted me to be named Oneta. Amy, my mother just told me my Granddad Clyde named me. She didn’t know why either, but she said she liked the name. And one other thing, a baby boy came two years later. His name? Of course, it is Clyde.
Sweet aroma 
Lovely share and one I can really relate to. My grandparents homesteaded in north central New Mexico and their first homes were dug-outs. I can wax very nostalgic about that part of my heritage too. I miss the simplicity of that kind of life.
That was a time when Christmas was a time to remember! We didn’t get much in the way of presents any other time of year. I would love to have a picture of that dugout. We still lived there when my brother was born two years later. I don’t have any other milestone to help me remember when we moved on. I know we lived in make shift places when my daddy did share cropping type of work. I was in second grade when they finally bought their own land with a house on it. I do remember that. I was enticed to want to move by them telling me I would have my own room which was a half of the attic area. my brother was at the other end. It was special to me. Thanks for contacting me.
think that’s a very special gift! Lovely story, Oneta!
Thank you, Pam. I really appreciate your reading and commenting. You are an especially talented person.
This is a lovely story. Thank you. As a might have happened story it certainly raises wonderful possibility questions. Your writing is always a joy.
Thank you, Faye. Fortunately my mother liked to write and left some stuff with me so I can glean bits of interest along the way. I try to keep my “might have happened” stories true to character, time, and culture. My stories regarding myself are almost always true to the extent that I know them, e.g. There Was a Little Girl. And I particularly feel accountability to write all inspiration, Biblical, religious kinds of things without exaggeration. After all, I really don’t need to exaggerate Jesus, do I?
This is so sweet. Is this really how you got your name?
Dawn, only the part about my Granddad giving me the name. Mom didn’t know why either. He has a daughter (my aunt, mother’s sister) who has Juanita as a middle name. I guess he liked the variations of Neta. I’ll never know why. That is why I was careful to call this a “might have been” story. The dugout part was true, I was born in January and I believe my granddad Clyde did go on cattle drives. Mom said something about that one time when talking about a time before he married my grandmother whose name was Iowa.
That is so amazing! Thanks for sharing such incredible personal history.
Thank you, Dawn. You open my eyes to treasures I overlook.
This is lovely Oneta. Thanks for the kind mention. Ladies don’t reveal their age, but you just did 😛
LOve and light ❤
Anand 🙂
Yes, Anand. I blew it about my age, didn’t I? Here all this time I had you thinking I probably had to be close to sixty since I am a grandmother! It seems unbelievable to me to be on the far side of eighty. I just tell you so you can anticipate the future. Nothing has ever been so good. At least not after my marvelous health recovery a couple of years ago. I’d like to think I could go out and make another dollar or two, but the bills are met. I can’t complain. Thanks for planting the seed that resulted in this story. It was fun thinking what might have been.
Hi Oneta – that is a lovely story. I can imagine that it makes your name very special to you.
Thanks for the comment. I have enjoyed having an unusual name.
How did you get the snow on your page?! It looks amazing! 🙂
I was looking for a way to adjust my comments so I could receive more “layers.” I was in “settings” under the WP admin and there it was! A box to click if you wanted snow through Jan. 4. I read a blog last night that pointed out that the snowflakes follow your mouse as you move it left-right directions. But I didn’t find my answer about the comments!
Thanks! 🙂
What a great story, about your history! Not many people had that privilege – of being named by a grandparent!
Yes, that one of those little tid-bits in my life that could have been so easily overlooked. I don’t know in what setting my mom told me this interesting little bit of trivia.It really doesn’t take much to make a person feel special, does it?
That’s right!