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According to the Social Security Administration, the most popular baby girl names for 2020 are Emma, Olivia, and Ava. For boys, it's Liam, Noah, and William. You can also find online lists of up-and-coming names, like Luna, Aurora, Maeve, Genesis, Saint, or Baker. It seems these days parents are diligent about assigning unique monikers to their children. Perhaps it speaks to a desire for their children to excel, to rise above the pack. It wasn't always this way. There were two other girls named Janice in my elementary classes alone (we tended to get promoted together). There was also one Janis and one Janet. I can't help wonder what sparked that interest and never asked or heard how my name was chosen. Some names from the past have made a comeback in recent years: Ruby (both my stepmother and my granddaughter), Hazel, or Opal. They seem like old-lady names to me, but after a while they fit. When our son was born in 1971, we chose to name him Marc Geoffrey, which was an effort to use unique spelling, so I understand. He was in second grade before he could spell his middle name, and people who didn't know him referred to him as "Marcy" or "Marse," thrown by the "c" at the end of his name. We learned our lesson and chose a perfectly normal name and spelling for Kelly Denise. I'm not sure if either appreciates the care we took over their names. Names are important and influence attitudes toward the bearer. When I taught teen moms, they spent most of their last trimester taking student polls or debating (often in the classroom) this name or that. I shared our experience with choosing an unusual spelling, to no avail. They came up with the oddest names, and often spelled non-phonetically. I wonder how these poor children (the Qintels and the Nevaehs) have fared. I wonder how their jobs or scholastic prospects will be affected someday. And I shake my head at their mothers' vanity. I suppose I'm just old-fashioned and prefer names that I can pronounce and that make a statement about hope or love or beauty in the eyes of loving parents. I'm okay with that. --Janice
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How important are names? It used to be common to want a baby boy, so that the family name could be passed on. Those were the days when women automatically gave up their last name with marriage. About 10 years after I got married, women started thinking about keeping their maiden name. When my daughter got married, her husband took our last name, without his parent’s approval. But the history of last names, for those of us who descended from Swedes, is a changing history. There, common farmers took their father’s first name, and added “son” on the end, and thereby changed the last name every generation. (Thus ending up with Gustavson, because Ed’s grandfather was the son of Gustav.) This happened at Ellis Island, in the first part of the 20th century, because there were too many Piersons (his actual name) that day on the rolls. Many immigrant names were misspelled or shortened, again because of workers at Ellis Island and other immigrant ports. My grandfather’s name was Gustave, and so I could have grown up with Gustavson for a last name, but in Sweden where his father came from, he had chosen “Blomquist”. I still use it as a middle name for my writing, because some know me only by that name. Translated, it means “blooming twig or limb.” My son Kent took it as the name of his publishing company. It seems to me that names are really important for only about a generation, maybe two, and not the name, but the honorable reputation is what needs to be passed on. --Cynthia Throughout history names have been thought to represent characteristics of the people named. We can see this throughout the Old Testament. God has many names. The first name that appears is Elohim, a plural word that indicates God is above all gods and ruler of all. It also prefigures the Trinity. My favorite is El Shaddai, which literally means “the many-breasted one,” a nurturing and female description. People often name their children after something or someone they love, or even a name from Scripture, giving the name meaning for them. They also sometimes pour through books of names that give the name’s meaning. This is especially true in Christian circles, I believe. I named my first child Amanda because it means “beloved,” which was and remains my declaration and hope for her. Names are very connected to identity in another way. Women may have one, two, or more surnames in their lifetime. The maiden name is traditionally her father’s, and then she changes it to her husband’s when she marries. (“I present to you Mr. and Mrs. John Smith.”) Historically this denoted ownership, although I’m sure brides these days don’t think of it that way. Then if she divorces, she can take back her maiden name or keep her married name. Change in marital status is the only time I’m aware of that allows a name change without specific legal action. It’s a real dilemma when the marriage has produced children or the woman is known professionally by her married name. Does she return to her maiden name when her children have her ex-husband’s name? Does she notify everyone who knows her professionally that she will now have a different name? It’s because of these two reasons that I continue to use the name of a man I despise. And it means that the 50th reunion committee has had a lot of difficulty tracking me down. In high school I was Terry Harper. Notice the very different experience of men, who have the same name throughout their lives. Does this help them to have a stable and unchanging identity? A dandelion’s life may depend on whether the owners of the lawn consider it a flower or a weed. --Terese Specifically, what's in my name. There is some family history at the beginning. My Paternal grandparents were hard-shelled, foot washing Baptist in Sanderson, FL. during the early 1900's. They raised 7 children on a farm, and life was not an easy road. My impression was that the Bethea's did not care for the daughter-in law their son, Giles, brought home; never heard much about that. My parents had bad luck with babies, 2 still-born before my sister, Sonya Karen came along. I don't know if she was named for a relative or not. When I was born 3 years later, I was named for my Paternal Grandmother, Dona, but the spelling I was given was more conventional, Donna. Middle name: Claire. Now in the 1950's as TV became big, Howdy Doody and Buffalo Bob were joined by a clown named: Clara Bell. I hated Claire because it translated to Clara Bell really quickly. I probably stopped using it very early on and just didn't replace in until the early 80's. I married Raymond Alpha Solomon to escape my parents before I really did go crazy. That was 1960, and instead of graduating from high school, I had a baby at 18, in 1961. I took Ray's name, because I was supposed to! Donna Claire Bethea Solomon. Divorced. Then in 1964 I married a Sailor, David Alan Fisher. David was a fun loving privileged white boy, who really didn't want to put his nose to the grindstone of life. After years of financial insecurity, drinking and job hopping I began to realize that this marriage was not going to make 50 years, I opened a checking account in my own name Donna Bethea Fisher. This was mid 80's. Donna Bethea Solomon Fisher. Divorced, dropped the Solomon. After 10 years and a move to Tulsa, OK, I met Lonnie Ray Hardin. We dated, cohabitated, and married in 1997. I graduated from my OTA program, a month later we were wed, and a month later Lonnie's mom died of Cancer. She was so glad to see her son married, she told everyone I was the answer to her prayers. So again, I took his name, in a very conventional way. Donna Bethea Fisher Hardin. Dropped Fisher. After 13 years of marriage, my fly-boy went down in a crash. Living through those next months I knew I would never be anyone but Donna Bethea Hardin. I had to get back to the life I knew, as wife and companion, to feel whole again. So, I went Man-Shopping on Line, met Christopher Padberg and found a great companion. We have a good life together, are reasonably happy and find joy in small happenings every day. And he doesn't care what my name is! --Donna My family doesn't have many stories about names that I am aware of. My parents are no longer living so I can't ask them. I do know that my middle name Rose was my grandmother's middle name and my mother's first name. My mother never liked her first name and legally changed her middle name to her first name and was no longer Rosie, but she still gave me that name as my middle name. That was what she hated and so became Irene. I have no idea where the Carolyn came from. I was always thankful that I was not named after female ancestors on my dad's side. The possible names were Hulda and Botilda. WOW! Am I glad neither of those were my names either first or middle name! My brother Ken received my dad's middle name for his first name and my brother Stan has the middle name of my dad's father. There is an interesting story about the Ekenstam name. The story is that so many Swedes named Swenson came to Texas that they couldn't get their mail, so it was decided that the loser in whatever contest they had would have to change their name and the Swenson in Fred's family tree lost. However, he decided to pick fancier, more upper class name and picked Ekenstam which is supposed to be the stem of an oak. Don't ask me how that is more upper class? At least, the Swedish tradition was dropped and no one became Ekenstamson! When it came to naming my children, I don't actually remember how we picked Erik's first name. I do know that the Charles was a variation of my name or one of the many Carls in the family or either side. When it came to Karla, she was named after Fred's dad who was Carl and my grandfather and great grandfather both of whose names were Carl Carlson with different middle names. Her middle name is Irene which was my mother's name from the beginning. We teased her that she could have become Lesterene Cordelia after my dad and Fred's mom. Hopefully, no one would do that to their child. She is not very thankful for the “K” at the beginning of her name. It means she has to spell it often. --Carolyn The main way I've gotten out of the house is to work in the vegetable garden out back or the flower beds out front. I'm ridiculously proud of a few beans or a single tomato. We haven't been able to go on many walks because of my husband's feet but it's always enjoyable when we do. But even just sitting outside and watching the birds or enjoying the sun and breeze is peaceful and soothing in some way I can't explain. And then of course there are trips in the car for an ice cream cone! --Terese At this moment, I am literally out of my house, but not away. I am sitting out on the front porch reading a book and listening to the thunder and rain. I feel the wind blowing and moisture on my skin. The sounds and sensations feel amplified for some mysterious reason. This is not something that I would have done in normal circumstances, but is bringing me a sense of peace and relaxation Like Carolyn, most days I am getting out early in the mornings and taking a walk in the neighborhood. The exercise is definitely beneficial to my physical body, but now, even more importantly, to my mind and soul. I am lucky to live in a very friendly neighborhood and usually, while walking, exchange a greeting or have a short conversation with a few people that I have become acquainted with. This contact, even if it is only brief, is more important to me now than ever. The most exciting adventure away from the house recently was my visit to one of my sons and family in North Carolina. I knew that this trip entailed some risk, but so many of our decisions at the moment are based on risk vs benefit, and decided that this trip would decrease some of the anxiety that I have been feeling due to being isolated. We met in the mountains and spent several days enjoying the scenery and cool weather. I then spent a week at their house in Raleigh, where we were able to go to a state park and wade or swim in the cooling water of the Eno river. Raleigh allows fireworks, so we had our own small 4th of July celebration, which my 11 year old granddaughter loved! Of course, the best part of my visit, was just being with family, having in person conversations and eating meals with others. Who would have thought a few months ago that I could have such a longing for the normal activities of living? It was wonderful! --Jeanette Well, it's really easy. You just walk out the door. However, with the pandemic, it seems I have been walking out of the house more often, but not to go someplace in the car. Instead, first myself, and now Leroy and I, get out of the house almost every morning between 6 and 7 to go for a walk. We almost always get our 10,000 steps before we stop and we have several routes in the neighborhood that will take us that far. Some stay close, just walk around the school or up the hill by our house and others take us across the major streets near us. We return and sit on the front porch most mornings, something I have not done in the past. We get to observe other neighbors running or walking by. Something else new during this time. I don't believe I have spent this much time outside in the past. Usually time away from home has been spent traveling to meetings or gatherings or church. This has definitely been different. We have also made short trips to Chief Lookout memorial north of Pawhuska. This is a memorial to an Osage chief and his wife and from the top of this hill you can see a great distance in all directions into the Osage hills. It is just lovely! My husband loves to drive so if time at home gets long he is more than willing to get in a vehicle and just drive. We did also get to Crystal Bridges Museum in Bentonville, AR as they are open and taking necessary precautions for the virus. It was great to get away for the better part of a day. I have also been to a couple of outdoor meetings and outdoor church. I do love congregational singing and being able to do that outdoors with other people, all at a distance and wearing masks, has been a great experience. --Carolyn My favorite outdoor destinations these days are our small gardens. My husband built two raised beds last summer, which are planted in tomatoes, peppers, herbs, and flowers. We also have three more small beds that we've filled with salvia, yarrow, butterfly bush, and santolina. Black Diamond crepe myrtles with bright crimson blooms tower over them all. In one of the raised beds, I cast a full, large packet of seeds called "butterfly mix," because I was hoping to attract butterflies to our yard. The mix included at least 20 species of flowers known to be either food or nectar sources for butterflies. It also included zinnias, which I have always loved because of their brilliant color and the fact that they remain lovely in cut arrangements for well more than a week. Unfortunately, the butterflies haven't materialized--at least not in appreciable numbers. We've seen an Eastern Swallowtail flit around the parsley, which is the preferred food source for their larvae and caterpillars, but there's no sign of caterpillars yet. Also, the milkweed apparently didn't germinate, so I don't expect any Monarchs to visit. I haven't given up, though. I continue to trek out to the gardens a couple of times each day: watering, weeding, examining the growing tomatoes, cutting flowers or snipping basil for pesto, and searching for caterpillars. It's amazing what an uplifting joy it is to look out my bedroom window and see the cacophony of color coming from the scene outside. It never fails to pull me out the back door. --Janice I haven’t bought a tank of gas for my car for four months. That tells you that I am staying put. But I do get out of the house. We have a beautiful patio that looks out over the 18th fairway of a golf course, and beyond it to a wooded area. All three of our meals are eaten there, whether it is hot or rainy or cold, we sit under its roof and breathe the outside air, listening to and watching the birds. When I’m there I make my brain go to imagination mode, and pretend I am on vacation at Hilton Head, SC. My husband and I also take a daily bike ride. Since the summer heat has set in, we go early in the morning. All the runners and bikers and dog walkers are also out on the sidewalks at that time. We’ve gotten to know their faces, and we exchange our cheery, “Hello, have a great day!” We now feel more integrated into our neighborhood than ever before. No one knows our politics, and no one cares, just a nod, or a smile, or even an exchange of names. That’s it for my covid-19 adventures. My imagination has to work very hard in these times, but I can do it. And God bless ZOOM, so I can see my friends! --Cynthia |
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January 2022
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