Oh, the delicious Schadenfreude in reading about the broigeses of others: and yet again we have the Royal family to thank. A new book has outlined the rumblings at the palace when the Sussexes announced their intention to name their daughter Lilibet, a family nickname for the queen. Royal journalist Robert Hardman quoted courtiers as saying that the late Queen was “as angry as I’d ever seen her” after Harry and Meghan stated she had been “supportive” of the name.
And how much more delicious was my enjoyment of the fuss over this “final insult” (according to the Telegraph) when I thought that this wouldn’t happen in a Jewish family. Traditionally we Ashkenazis never name a child after someone who is still alive. And although the reason given is generally that our priority is naming after the deceased, to pass on their attributes, it’s always seemed very clear to me that the real purpose is to avoid acrimony among the living grandparents who could easily be miffed if one is favoured over the others. (Sephardim, I know, do name after the living, I can only assume they are less given to broiges and hurt feelings than we are)
Anyway,my merry smugness faded away approximately two minutes later when I remembered. I am the Lilibet of my family.
My parents, naming their first child, wanted to honour their maternal grandmothers. My mother’s grandma Sarah had died a few years earlier. My father’s much-loved Booba died just before I was born.
