Were you named after anyone?

I was supposed to be Mark. I was supposed to be a boy. I was supposed to be a lovable, quiet, cooing baby; but for my mother, I was not. All day, I would torture her. I didn’t sleep. I cried when she rocked me. I cried in my crib. And to make it worse, when my grandmother came in after being at work all day, then the cooing Indian Princess would appear. My mother loved to call me her Indian Princess. I think she had dreams of how a beautiful baby would be so wonderful. I was not that baby.

But as usual, I got distracted and forgot to tell you the story of my name. Since I was definitely not Mark, my mother called me Marie. Her name was Colleen Mary. Her mother, Mary Elizabeth. Her mother Mary Francis. I need to do some genealogy to see how many Mary’s were in line. However, my grandmother was always called Edna and not Mary. Her mother was Francis and not Mary, so my practical grandmother pushed the Mary to be the second name. She wanted my mother to be called Colleen without the complication of it being the second name. At school, the teachers would know to call on “Colleen.” The bank and the driver’s license would have a name that matched the person.

When it came to her turn, my mother kept the Mary as the first name, but preferred the French, Marie. It showed that she could tow the line, but with her own flair. So in I was named after the women in my family.

My second name is Helen. I believe that was named after someone, but right now I can’t think of who that might have been.

Unfortunately, the Mary or Marie, first or second name, seems to end with me.

Do You Like or Dislike Your Name?

Mar20

Now I didn’t choose my name so it is what it is. I do like Marie although growing up many people said it incorrectly. Now people say Maria. I tell them, “No, Marie with an E. It is French.” I am patient and it doesn’t really bother me. I don’t dislike my name because of this. I don’t think about liking or disliking my name. It is me.

My last name, when I was little, was Willoughby. It is a great name, but for a little one it is hard to spell and pronounce. I wasn’t phased by it. The kids at school would chant, “Willoughby, Wallaby, Kangaroo.” Not in an evil way, but just some gentle teasing. Later, as a spelling teacher, I was thankful because I learned early how to spell some difficult words just because of my name.

I found that Willoughby means those people living by the willow tree. I do love weeping willow trees. They are so graceful and sad. They cry into the rivers and streams providing shade and leaves that you can walk through. They are natures curtains.

Now I have been a Doerner for over 30 years. Oddly, that means those people living by the thorn bush. It is a much tougher time. Living near thorn bushes mean you have to be precautious as you go about your day to day activities. You learn to keep your eyes open and your body ready to avoid the thorns. This learning prepares you well for life especially today. There are thorns all over the place that you need to avoid. Keep your eyes open. That said, thorn bushes can be beautiful. They can have wonderful flowers and scents made in heaven. That is all the more reason you have to watch out. We do have some large cacti at our house, but they are obvious and easy to avoid. The lemon tree however is a different story. It needs pruning and “de-lemoning”. It requires care and gloves if possible. Just when you get started, your skin is pierced by a long thorn. You gently talk to the tree to explain that you are trying to help it out. and to please stop stabbing. Yes, there are thorns everywhere.

In between, I was an Anderson. When I was a Willoughby, I was always last. My elementary school always had us line up by name, alphabetically. I was always last or nearly last. I did not like that and I swore that I would marry someone whose name started with A. And, as it turned to pass, that is exactly what I did. The name part of the relationship was amazing. Having a name at the beginning of the alphabet, means it is at the beginning of the phone book, the beginning of most everything. I did love that part of the name. Anderson comes from Andrew’s son. To my knowledge, there were no Andrews in the family, but Papa was often called Andy. So technically, my ex was Andy’s son, so it all made sense. There is the small annoyance of whether it ends with son or sen, but easy to say, easy to spell and easy to find. Three of my children and two of my grandchildren are Andersons and so the name goes on.

My middle name, Helen, I have always disliked. I am not sure why. I would have loved to be Ellen or Elena. Helen seems such a cold name. I thought Elena was much softer and sweeter. Even the beautiful Helen of Troy couldn’t save the name. Although she did provoke a war, just because of who she was. Totally unfair.

However, I really did love my initials. MHW. It is the same upside down as it is right side up. It is an upside down palindrome. I loved writing my initials for that reason. If I was contrary, I could write them upside down and nobody would be the wiser.