THE one thing that took the edge off my wedding day was the fact that I had to give up my maiden name, which was Womack.

It was a name I liked very much because it was and still is, rather unusual.

It was also a conversation starter.

My new married name was to be Grimshaw, a very ordinary everyday name in Lancashire.

Before I was married people would say ‘Womack? What an unusual name, where is it from’, which was great.

Nobody ever said that about Grimshaw, but I soon got used to it.

When I got married I was a strong feminist and felt more than just a little put out by the fact that women had to give up their maiden name.

I seemed at the time so unfair, but I am glad to say I soon got over it — though I still have a great fondness for Womack.

I believe it’s an American Indian name and one of these days I will spend a bit of time and see if I can find its origin.

What makes it more difficult is my Dad was an orphan and was brought up in the Cheshire Homes, so there is a bit of a dearth of family records.

My grandson is delving into our family history, though, so perhaps something will come out of that.

When I mention it, in general conversation my son keeps reminding me in a very condescending voice ‘Mother. What matters is not where you come from, but where you are going’.

I think that I might have mentioned it before, but he’s a right clever clogs!

Now how do these things happen?

I mean one minute you are the head of the family, the fount of all knowledge who has the answer to everything, and the solution to all their problems, then suddenly, hey presto, overnight you become this crass out-of-date moron, who now knows absolutely nothing.

I think it’s called the ‘then’ and ‘now’ syndrome — I seem to recall my mother suffering from it!