It’s fair to wonder about the name. Google it and you get, well…photos of my mom. Like many grandparents, Ditdo received her moniker via the eldest grandchild. When kids start naming people and things in their universe, they can be very insistent. My grandmother became “Grape Grandma” and my great aunt became, “GG”, my dad became, “Dado”, and my mom became “Ditdo”. While the first three made some sense to adults ears, Ditdo remains a mystery to this day. It may well have been an early indicator of Drew’s creative nature as he is, to this day, a worker of words, a lyricist, a musician.
With her unique name firmly ensconced in the lexicon of the eldest and youngest lad, Ditdo soon had a fan club outside of the house. Living in the South comes with a level of familiar courtesy such as, “Ms. Beth” or “Mr. Eric”, but that level of address was not for my mom. She is Ditdo. And my dad is Dado. The kids in the neighborhood, preschool, soccer team, swim team, hockey team, classroom, bandroom…well, you can see where this is going. Over the years, I reckon somewhere upwards of 500 kids have probably called my Parents “Ditdo” and “Dado”.
She and Dado both celebrate birthdays this week and, if the social media indicators are to be believed, they have been well-loved! The kids and their parents who know my parents all call them Ditdo and Dado. There is not a”Mr.” or “Ms.” among the acknowledgements. No, for these octogenarians, Ditdo and Dado suit them just fine!
Happy Birthday to you both! Love, B
FreelanceBeth 