|
I was Pester to him My name is Kristi. Twenty years ago I had another name. It was Pester. I can’t tell you when I acquired that name or if a certain event caused it to become mine. I can only tell you that my grandfather gave me the name. When I was a kid I followed my grandfather everywhere. He was a tobacco farmer, so the trips were early and at times messy. He had a truck that made an “ahooga” sound. He would drive around to my bedroom window and toot the horn to pick me up. When I turned 13, I went out to see my grandparents. When I came in the door Granddaddy said, “Happy Birthday, Kristi.” He said, “You are too old to be called Pester.” “I will always be Pester to you,” I said. I did not always like the name anyway. I would get mad sometimes about my name. It took him taking it away from me to realize how precious a gift the name was. Others have called me Pester, but that is not who I am anymore. The most important part of that name is gone: my granddaddy. Kristi de Costa |
|