- Posted August 24, 2013 by
This iReport is part of an assignment:
Family Names Not Always Good
I would reply, “No, it’s just Betty. I was named after my aunt.”
I grew up the “namesake” of my aunt. Although she was never around much, she always bragged about this fact. She was in the military and she married a man who swept her far away, so none of us ever saw her much.
The earliest memory I have of her was when I was about 10 years old. My grandfather died and she brought my two younger cousins to town for the funeral. That was the beginning of years of her relentless bragging about my being her namesake.
You see, my mother was named after her aunt. Then she decided to name me after my aunt. I am not sure if this was some sort of family tradition but for a while I thought it was kind of cool—until the day of the phone call.
One day, after I was all grown up, my telephone rang. It was my most favorite aunt! You know—the one I was named after. She was trying to reach my mother but somehow didn’t have her newest phone number (which seemed to change like her socks- but that is another story and I digress).
Mind you I hadn’t talked to my aunt in months. I gave my favoritest, dearest aunt the new number and she promptly ended the conversation and hung up. I was crushed. I felt so empty. The person who had spent so many years making such a big deal about the fact that I was named after her could not even spend five minutes on the phone with me.
It was at that moment that I decided that no matter how cool my sister’s name was, I would NEVER name my child after her.