My Name is Jessie

Many, many moons ago, on a cold December day, George and Lela Graybill gave birth to their second daughter and named her Jessie. Not Jessica, just Jessie after one of her great-aunts.  The name “Jessie” in Hebrew means wealthy. Instead of being called Jess, for short, my mom called me JJ. As a young adult, my mom mailed me a small card with my name on it, explaining its meaning and quoting a scripture. 

I always liked my name. However, when you are younger, you often lack the confidence it takes to carry your name. I grew up in an era when the popular TV show The Dukes of Hazzard featured Uncle Jessie. So, I would get teased because I had a guy’s name. Into my teen years, we had the number one hit, by Rick Springfield, “Jessie’s Girl”, making life more confusing by spelling Jessie the same way I do, but meaning it for a guy.  Then, there was, of course, the infamous Jesse James. Just to solidify the point, I did indeed share a name that could also be a male name. 

As I approached adulthood and all its glorious responsibilities, I started to wonder where all this “wealthy” meaning of my name would come into play. If my name means wealthy, won’t I BE wealthy? 

As time does its thing, it marched on, and I had four fabulous boys, whom I was blessed to homeschool as a stay-at-home mom. I had a marriage of nearly 20 years, with a very peaceful, co-parenting divorce of 10 years now, and a very small, but happy, place in Hawaii. So, you would think I’m crazy to still, after such an amazing life so far, be wondering where the wealthy part comes into play. 

Almost exactly a year ago, as I write this, my precious mom passed away in her sleep while living with my sister. Our father passed away when we were in high school, leaving my mom to raise us alone. Preparing my mom’s funeral with my sister was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done in my life. Hanging in my wardrobe is the small card with my name on it, which my mom sent me years ago. I realized I will always be her JJ until I’m gone.  

It took me nearly 48 years to finally understand my name. Recently, I woke up at 2 am with a terrible headache and had a hard time falling back asleep. Thankfully, the next day was a Saturday with no plans, so I lay in bed for most of the day and put on some soothing music. One of my favorite and most beautiful songs was played. I relaxed my muscles as “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri played. I love this song. As a single mom, I naturally like to think there’s a perfect match out there for me who has always loved me, even if being perfect means he’s a vampire like Edward. I’m okay with that. But, back here in reality, I, in the very moment of hearing this song for probably 10,000 times, got it. I had my ah-ha moment. 

Growing up, I didn’t realize how poor we were. We had a nice home, and my mom always made sure my sister not only had our needs met but that we always had the latest trendy clothing, fancy Trapper Keepers, pink Caboodles, all while watching MTV on cable. It wasn’t until I was a mom that I realized how much she sacrificed for us. My father was a 100% service-connected World War II veteran, and my mom was his caregiver with his many health issues and amputated leg. He was 25 years older than my mom. He was 49 when I was born. When he passed away, there was no life insurance or inheritance. So, my always stay-at-home mom was now forced to go to work to provide for my sister and me. She worked so hard for every penny, and there were months when it wasn’t enough. When God decided it was her time to go to heaven, she, too, had no life insurance. My sister and I had to fund the funeral. There was no inheritance. 

My ah-ha moment, when time stood still, and I realized that this incredible song was not about the love of my life, but it was about the loves of my life. I was waiting for wealth to come to me. I didn’t realize I was the wealth, me, Jessie.  Neither my mom nor my dad could leave my sister and me any material wealth. Not even a car or a piece of land, but they did give us something priceless. Within me is literally my dad’s and my mom’s DNA. Within each of them was all that their parents were. Within my grandparents was all that their parents were. It goes on and on back to the beginning of our time. I feel like with each passing of my ancestors, they have passed along their wisdom. The knowledge of a life well-lived. They have died, not in vain, but all waiting for me to be me, in this very moment. To live my life, gaining knowledge as I live out my simple, happy life. Life cannot make us any promises, but life within us does hold the promise that love is always worth the fight. I have been loved for a thousand years. Time has brought the heart of all my ancestors to me. All I needed to do was just be brave. This song by Christina Perri, like all music, is the art of the living. The words to “A Thousand Years” will never be the same to me. These lyrics have stopped me in my tracks and turned my heart upwards to the heavens. 

Yes, the name “Jessie” in Hebrew means “wealthy”, and it has nothing to do with what I have. I finally know what that means. I finally know exactly who I belong to and who I am. I’m proud to be the daughter of George and Lela Graybill, and my name is Jessie.  


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