Showing posts with label name. Show all posts
Showing posts with label name. Show all posts

Thursday, October 3, 2013

What's in a Name?

I was reading through projects on Swap Bot today and came across a post card swap that I wasn't interested in joining, but it did have an interesting description:
Write about the meaning of your first name, middle name or the history/ land of origin of your last name. You might also know the story as to why your parents chose it for you (family traditions, special significance, etc)
Barbsm.jpg (32770 bytes)The story goes that the name my parents had chosen for me, if I were a girl, was Barbara, after my aunt Barb.  There were 10 children in my mother's family, 7 girls and 3 boys.  My mother is #7 in the line up and Barb was the youngest.   Peach's mother, Marge, was #6 and in their adulthood, Marge and Barb were my mother's closest sisters.  She doesn't talk about missing Barb, but she sure talks a lot about missing Marge.

But anyway, I was to be a Barbara but at some point, they decided that it might be too confusing to have two Barbaras in the family, so they went with Barb's middle name, which was Beverly.
Barb was the one who had Alzheimers and when she was still in the "developing" stages, she gave me a necklace of hers, which I treasure.  It is a Pisces sign and she gave it to me because we are both Pisces.  I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was an Aquarius!  But I still have the necklace, though I don't wear it.

Scott Girls.jpg (56349 bytes)
The Scott women -- the one second from the left in back is not
part of the family (I don't know who she is!) and the woman with
the rose on her chest is my grandmother, who is
next to my mother, in the dark shirt and white skirt.

I never knew that "Beverly" had a meaning until I was in about the 5th grade when the new priest to our parish, Leonard Bose, came into the classroom to meet all the kids.  As it happened, we all had our names displayed on our desk and I was sitting in the first desk in the first row, so when he entered mine was the first name that he saw.  "That means Beaver Lake, you know" he said.   Thereafter he always called me Beaver Lake.

Funny man, Fr. Bose.  He was probably in his early 40s, balding, and a funny looking man.  I remember when he bought a new car, which was pink and grey.  Everyone teased him about it, but he didn't know because he was color blind.   He was also the first male figure that I ever developed a crush on...and lord only knows why!!

As for the "Anne," I think it was just for Saint Anne, who was the mother of Mary.  My mother was not Catholic, but she was always religious and I know my godmother was very religious, so she may have had some say in the choice of my middle name.  It is also family lore that when I was a baby, I had a lump on my neck.  Big lump? Little lump?  I don't know.  But enough to be worrisome.  It would require surgery when I got older. My godmother took me to the local parish church, lit candles in front of a statue of St. Anne, said prayers and, when I first heard the story, apparently the lump was gone the next day.

True? Apocryphal?  I don't know, but be nice to me.  I may be a miracle baby!

It's difficult to know the origin of my last name, which was West.   I have never researched it, though Peach has done extensive research on my mother's side of the family, all of whom came from Scotland.  My father's family was Irish on his father's side and German on his mother's side.  I knew zilch about his mother's family and other than my great grandmother, whom I remember meeting once, when I was 4 and she was in a hospital, I don't remember meeting any of them, except one of my grandfather's four brothers, who was my godfather.  I don't know how far back the "West" name went, but it's a pretty plain vanilla kind of name.

When Walt and I went to Ireland for the second time and stayed with his mother's cousin Nora, I mentioned to her the name of my great-grandmother and the county where she came from.  Nora was indignant -- "that's not a name from that county," she said...it was from another county.  I guess Ireland is a small enough country that if you live long enough, you really do know which family names come from which counties!

Monday, March 15, 2010

The Skies the Limit

Facebook just started a new group (I think they start about 100 a day) for "People Who Always Have To Spell Their Names For Other People." It already has 548,756 members.

I've been spelling my name all my life. You cannot believe how many people cannot spell "Beverly." All throughout my life at home, I was constantly asked if it was "ly" or "ley." The best day, though was when I was shopping at The Emporium in San Francisco and someone asked me how to spell "West." (Gee. I dunno. What are my options?)

I should have known that I was asking for trouble when I took Walt's name. I never realized that my name would not be "Bev Sykes" but "Bev Sykes S-Y-K-E-S." I don't even think about it any more. I just automatically say and then spell my name.

I suppose that I'm glad I never married our Ukranian friend, David's godfather Andrij. All those years we were at the Newman Center in Berkeley whenever we went out to eat in a group, we always gave his name - Hornjatkewyc - even if he wasn't with us. We laughed watching the host or hostess trying to pronounce that name (horn-yacht-KAY-vich. Sorta. Remember to roll the "r.") One creative hostess at the Pancake House just gave up and called for "Mr. Horn."

As accustomed as I am to saying and spelling my name, I certainly never envisioned an entire lifetime of being called Mrs. Skies. It boggles my mind that someone can look at the name sYkes and think it is pronounced "Skies." But I'll bet that 90% of people contacting me for the first time make that mistake.

I hereby apologize to our children and my daughters-in-law for doing that to them. I shoulda only had girls who had a fighting chance to finding someone whose name they would like to take as their own!


Curmudgeon Andy Rooney was railing at the US Postal Service on 60 Minutes tonight, pointing out how many post offices have closed in the past five years vs. how much the population has grown and what a terrible, unacceptable thing that is.

The post office has been a huge part of my life, with my father's working the mail on the train from San Francisco to Los Angeles for almost all of his career, certainly for all the years I lived at home.

I also had a fond spot in my heart for the mailman. We were the third house on his route, after he took the bus from Rincon Annex. I would sit in the window of the flat and watch for the mailman to get off the bus and start down the hill, and hope there was something in his magic bag for me. Christmas time was the best because they would deliver mail 2-3 times a day. I corresponded regularly with Peach and with some penpals I had in England.

When we moved to Davis and had foreign students living with us, I knew my mailman and was told that I received more foreign mail than anybody in Davis (quite a thing to say in a town with a University!).

But over the years we have seen a decline in postal service (where once I received a letter addressed to "Mrs. Beverly, Davis, CA" now I can't mail a letter to a prominent business in a mall 5 blocks away from here, just using the business name and the cross streets!) and a regular increase in postage to where it is ridiculously expensive to mail Christmas cards.

E-mail has changed how people think about communication. If I send a letter to my next door neighbor it may take a week to be delivered because it has to go to Sacramento to be sorted. If I e-mail something to Peggy, 9,000 miles away, it will be delivered in seconds. And it's free.

There will always be a need for some sort of postal service, I suppose, but I feel no pangs over the difficulties that the USPS finds itself in. It tells us every year that it is in such debt that it has to raise rates to mail a letter, and then tells us that it has to cut back on services.

Paying more for less makes no sense to me just to keep the postal service alive.

And no matter how much Andy Rooney prefers "a real letter" to e-mail, I'm afraid that the world has moved beyond that and those happy times that I remember too, are definitely a thing of the past.