My granddaughter, Lucy, when first beginning to talk, tried to call me—a name my daughter thought I would like to be called—Amma Kimmie. The “Amma,” quickly lost in the speech of a one year old, was dropped, and I became Kimmie, a name I love to be called. One day though, when coming to visit, Lucy burst through the front door and with much love and affection, yelled to me, “My Kimmie, I want to show you something!”
