I could’ve called myself anything on this blog – but I chose Janille N G.
You all know the story of the Green Heart by now. I’ve talked at length about why I named this blog The World of my Green Heart, and why the symbol of the green heart is so significant to me. (Future tattoo, perhaps? More on this one day soon!)
What I’ve never talked about, though, is why I decided to sign my posts and make all my social media accounts under the name Janille N G. It is my name, rest assured. But why do I include my middle initial? And why am I so attached to my last initial as well? Why not just be Janille and leave it at that?
The N comes from my maternal grandmother. She was an absolute sight to behold, I am told – the most gorgeous, classy woman, with an Audrey Hepburn-esque style and a sophistication that exuded from her every perfect pore. She came to Canada from Lebanon when she was just a teenager, and with her remarkable determination, she picked up both English and French fluently. She leant me (and my mom) our raven black hair and our sparkling brown eyes, as well as our affection for red lipstick. I have also been told that she was the kindest, most caring and generous woman that ever graced this Earth. Not a single person I have ever met has an ill word to say about my grandmother, and on the contrary, I have been told so many amazing stories about her that she has become this overwhelmingly impressive figure in my mind. And I am absolutely certain that she would have adored my fiancé and wrapped him in her arms as if he were her own grandson.
My grandmother passed away at the very young age of 57 after a long battle with breast and ovarian cancer. I was a year old. But whenever I have had the choice, on my university diploma, on all my IDs, on my marriage license, I have chosen to include my middle name in honour of her. And of course, I knew I wanted to include my middle initial as part of my identity on my blog.
The G comes from my paternal grandfather. He was the life of the party, and was in some ways very different from me, from what I can tell. He was constantly joyful, loud and fun, not bogged down by any anxieties or fears. I am told he had the kindest heart and was loved by literally every person he ever met. A true Italian to the core, he was fiercely loyal to his family, providing for them in every manner, but also encouraging my grandmother to get out of her comfort zone. I firmly believe he would have been the perfect grandparent for me to hang out with – I can see him urging me to calm down about my school and work stresses, taking me out for a big breakfast and reminding me that he will love and be proud of me no matter what I do in my life. I can see him at my university graduation, cheering louder than anyone and being impressed by the ambiance and mystique of it all. And I can clearly see him as the heart and soul of my wedding day, encouraging everyone to get on their feet and dance the night away. He had a larger than life personality!
My grandfather passed away at the devastatingly young age of 47 after a long battle with kidney and bone cancer. I was months away from being born. This is a story that absolutely breaks my heart whenever I think about it, particularly now as I am about to get married. My own father has now surpassed his father’s age, my grandmother lost her beloved husband when they were only 47 years old…that is too young, much much too young. What’s hardest for me to fathom, though, is the fact that I was so close to being born when he died. He was months away from becoming a grandfather (I am the first grandchild on both sides of my family), but unfortunately the doctors couldn’t tell my parents if I was a boy or a girl because I was flipped on my freakin’ head or something. So, my grandfather never got to learn if he would have a grandson or a graddaughter…and so many times when I was young, I wanted to just have the power to go back in time and poke him on the shoulder and say, Hey! It’s me, I was a girl! But I can’t do that, and I never will be able to.
I don’t know if I believe in God, but I have to believe that both my grandparents can see me now, as I plan the wedding I have always dreamed of. And, of course, they have become my Something Old as I will be sewing small pieces of their old clothing into my wedding dress.
When it came time to decide whether or not I wanted to change my name after marriage, the choice was easy for me. I have always known that I want to keep my name exactly as it is, mainly because I am so attached to what it represents and who it honours. My fiancé adamantly agreed (his own mother never changed her name), and so I intend to remain Janille N G for the rest of my life.
Janille N G
Girl with a Green Heart