OUR NAME
/“FULLER, FULLER, FULLER?” said my fiancée’s grandfather, stroking his chin, when she introduced me to him for the first time. “I’ve known some sorry ones and I’ve known some good ones. Most of them were sorry,” he concluded.
MY FUTURE GRANDFATHER-IN-LAW (AND WHO KNOWS WHO THE LADIES ARE)
I never did figure out which category he finally sorted me into. If it mattered to him that his beautiful grandgirl was about to become a FULLER, he didn’t show it.
I’ve never minded being Fuller; and by that I mean having that word as a last name. I’ve also never minded being a Fuller family member. (Hopefully the feeling is mutual.) Oh there was that time that a P.E. teacher/frustrated coach gave me a knickname, as he liked to do for all of his P.E. protégés. He liked to use his knicknames for us when he called roll. The guy before me, Doug Filmore was “Feel less”. Then came “Fulla-crap”. That was me. Fortunately, his knicknames didn’t catch on. Although he may have been somewhat prophetic.
Some of our very best friends are Smiths and Joneses. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to have a more common last name like Johnson and live on a street like Elm, rather than a name that people surprisingly have to clarify: “Did you say Ford?” “No, Fuller, like the brush man.” Then if they’re under 60: “The what?” It’s Fuller: “F-U-L-L-E-R!” “We live on Chateaux—the X is silent. Have you never been to New Orleans?”
Fuller isn’t an uncommon name, but it’s rare enough that when I hear it, my radar goes up. Could we be related? Is this someone I would be happy to share a name with? In some cases; yes. Often, I’m so pleased to see another Fuller, I talk about it; or, post some newsworthy story, etc.
Take Sarah Fuller for example. If that name rings a bell, Sarah is a soccer player at Vanderbilt U. in Nashville. Poor Vanderbilt did not have a great year in football. In their last few games their roster was COVID depleted including their placekicker. Sarah was called on and became the first female in a “Power 5” conference to kick and score in an NCAA game. Even though I would happy to say we are related; we are not (as far as you know), except we’re both Fullers and two of all God’s children.
SARAH FULLER
My Amazing-Missus and I have two children, both sons. I am proud to share the name with them. If My Amazing-Missus’s Papa had known our boys, he would’ve had to say, “FULLER? I’ve know some great ones!” Our boys, in chronological order, are Corey and Kyle.
Maybe you’ve heard of Corey Fuller who played for the Detroit Lions and his younger brother Kyle who still plays for the Chicago Bears. As far as you know, there is no relation, other than the fact that we’re all Fullers and all God’s children.
COREY FULLER
KYLE FULLER
This brings to mind a song by the Avett Brothers, “Murder In The City” that my son Corey introduced me to. From the lyrics:
Always remember there was nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name
Always remember there was nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name
When I was around 7 or 8 or so, my parents owned a bakery. One of their specialties was fried pies. I remember the slogan printed on the packaging of those pies—sweet marketing genius: “Fuller Pies, Better Because They’re Fuller!”
Without fail, at a table, at the end of a big meal, if anyone at all would say, “I’m full!” My Dad would reply, “I’m Fuller. Glad to meet ya.”
My Dad made being Fuller funner; and sometimes serious. He bore the name proudly as did my Mom and as does my little brother, Dr. George Edward (Rusty) Fuller.
That Avett Brothers song, that I mentioned earlier, also has a verse that goes like this:
I wonder which brother is better
Which one our parents love the most
I sure did get in lots of trouble
They seemed to let the other go
A tear fell from my father's eyes
I wondered what my dad would say
He said, "I love you and I'm proud of you both
In so many different ways
I love all of our Grand-Girls immensely, so don’t get me wrong here, and I know it sounds old-fashioned, and could be construed as diminishing, but I am so glad to have two little Grand-Boys, Malachi David and Jeremiah Kent, who will always be known as FULLER… some of the good ones.
2020 gets blamed and battered a lot, as if all this crap we’ve lived with these past months has been its fault. I do hope 2021 will be better, healthier, more peaceful, more hopeful.
Here’s my wish for you: A FULLER New Year.
