Grandma Ollie with her husband – Grandpa Harry – and their eight children.

As a journalist, I always use my middle initial. Even when the newspaper I worked for typically wasn’t so formal, I insisted.

It may seem unlikely that someone who lives in a small house, drives a compact car and avoids doing more than blow drying her hair would want to use a middle initial. But mine is special.

My Mom wanted to name me after her Mom, but she thought Olive would be strange for a child. She didn’t want me called “Olive Oyl,” and Grandma’s nickname of “Ollie” was decidedly old fashioned. So she christened me with Grandma’s middle name: Margaret.

My other Grandma died when I still was a baby, but I have very fond memories of Grandma Ollie. I can picture her steel-grey bun, colorful dresses and eye-crinkling smile. Going to her house or on vacation with her was a treat.

Ironically, Olive McKinnon would have been a simple but distinctive byline. I doubt if Grandma Ollie was the type of woman to worry about formalities, but I’m pretty sure she would approve of my including our middle initial instead.