Why Mam? A Legacy of Love, Freely Given and Humbly Received

Looking back now, I can see God’s hand in every relationship He placed around me. The grandparents who loved me, the family He gave me through marriage, the people who showed me that love is more than blood — none of that was accidental. Before I ever knew what “Mam” would mean to me, God already knew.

Why Mam?

God gifted me with grandparents who loved me deeply.

I grew up with three grandparents I knew well: my Nanny, my MawMaw, and my Pop. My mom’s daddy passed away when she was only two years old, so I never had the chance to know him. But as I’ve become a grandmother myself, I’ve found myself needing a name for him too. So in my heart, I call him Papa.

From what I’ve always heard, he was brave, strong, hardworking, loving, and irreplaceable. And he must have had a good sense of humor, because my Nanny was a mess.

Some of my sweetest childhood memories are with my Nanny. Everything felt like an adventure with her, even a trip to the grocery store or a doctor’s appointment. One of my favorite places to go with her was Nationwide Health Spa. The ladies there treated me like a little princess. I sat in the sauna, walked the treadmill, played in the pool without splashing, and listened to more grown-woman conversation than any child probably should have heard.

I think that may be where my love for older people began.

Then there was my MawMaw. She said the funniest things and made ordinary moments feel special. I can still picture myself sitting on her kitchen counter, eating raw biscuit dough. I know that probably was not good for me, but I still love biscuits to this day. Just this morning, she came to mind as I ate a hot buttered biscuit.

She loved good, hot, black coffee, and like her, I could drink it all day long. She sang “Bimbo” at bedtime, and one of the sweetest full-circle moments of my life was getting to sing it to my own grandbaby. MawMaw had a way of making everyone feel like her favorite. What a gift that is.

And my Pop.

What a man.

He loved his family well. He did not just say it; he lived it. He was respected by so many people in Eutaw, and I heard story after story about how he treated people with dignity and kindness.

When my parents divorced, my grandparents never let that divide the love we received. After my Nanny passed away in 2007, we had a private family graveside service. When Pop drove up, I remember taking off running to his car. He was not only there because he loved me and Tif. He was there because he loved my mom too.

Some of my favorite memories are Christmases with MawMaw, Pop, and Meme. They loved us so well that even divorce did not keep us from having time with our grandparents together. That is a gift I will never take lightly.

I remember sitting on the arm of Pop’s recliner, watching wrestling while he told me all about the guys on TV. I was really just happy to be close to him. He was strong and tall in stature, but gentle, loving, and kind. He fed me deer burgers and waited until after I ate them to tell me what they were. I still will not eat deer meat if I know it ahead of time. And his fig preserves will always be one of those memories I carry with me.

So after all that legacy of love, why Mam?

Originally, Chuck and I thought we would be Mammaw and Pappaw. But because we became young grandparents at 47 and 46, we landed on Mam and Pap.

If you know me, you know everything means something. I try not to miss a moment, especially because I know how short life is.

Mammaw and Pappaw are two of the most special people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. When God created Chuck, He placed him in a family with four loving grandparents and a grandfather who died serving our country and never returned home.

From the moment Chuck’s Mammaw and Pappaw met me, they treated me with genuine love. Always. They did not have to. I was not “blood.” But I never felt that way.

They showed me something powerful: family is not only the people you are born to. Family is also the people who love you like you belong.

Mammaw made me a lap quilt that has been part of so many memories over the decades. It has covered me again and again, just like she did. She always asked about my mom, my sister, and my Nanny. When Nanny lived with us during the last four years of her life, it was hard on all of us. But Mammaw was faithful to offer encouragement, wisdom, and love every step of the way.

Pappaw was a quiet man who loved so gently. I honestly do not remember him ever speaking in a way that was not loving. Whenever we visited, he would bring home the best ham from the butcher shop because Mammaw knew it was my favorite. And no one — and I mean no one — made dressing as good as Pappaw did. He did not have to be loud to make you feel loved. You simply knew.

That kind of consistency matters to me. Genuineness matters to me.

The love my grandparents poured into me helped shape who I am. Pieces of them live in me every day. But that extra love — the love freely given by people who did not have to claim me but did — became a mirror of the kind of person I want to be.

That is how Mam (and Pap) came to be.

Love freely given.

And humbly received.

“For created my inmost being;
 you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
 your works are wonderful,
 I know that full well.
 My frame was not hidden from you
 when I was made in the secret place,
 when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
 all the days ordained for me were written in your book
 before one of them came to be.” Psalm 139:13-16