What's In a Name (Middle, I Mean) | 25 June, 2024 @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2414 | Prompt: my mother's sister (with 2 others)

I remember one year early on in elementary school when a classmate asked me a simple question that changed my way of thinking about myself forever.

"What is your middle name? she wanted to know.

I don't fully remember the expression on my face. But it was probably one of shock and surprise. What I do remember is my response.

"I don't know."

I didn't realize it then, but in my mind, those five words "what is your middle name? would haunt me all my childhood and come to identify me as a oddity among everyone who knew me.

That night at home I asked my mother. "What is my middle name?"

No one can understand the confusion I felt at hearing her response.

"It's nothing you need to worry about."

You must understand my mother to realize why the conversation ended on that note. If she didn't want to answer a question, that was the end of the conversation. You simply waked away. No argument. No talking back. No attitude, such as rolling your eyes or allowing a snort indicating displeasure. Nothing.

But I did worry. So I went to bed deciding that it must be important if my classmate asked me.

You may wonder at this point why didn't I ask my siblings what their middle names were?.

Because no one in my family ever spoke of middle names. If they had them, perhaps they didn't know either.

The next morning I asked my siblings who were still at home. My eldest sister explained it.

"We all have middle names, EXCEPT YOU!"

Then she said something that was beyond my imagination. "Momma didn't even name you, so why do you think you would have a middle name?"

My younger siblings looked surprised, but said nothing. I was learning more than I expected that morning, and none of it was what I wanted to hear. I realized they learned something new as they'd never heard their middle names either.

Now, at that time, my eldest sister was the smartest person I knew. So I believed everything she said, especially after she spelled out the middle names of all our siblings, including our oldest brother who was away from home. The names were beautiful to my ears when I repeated them. They were suitable as first names.

"What do you mean that I came home with no name?" This was the first time I've heard this story.

"It's true. Momma was sick all the time before she went to the hospital. When you were born, the only time you didn't cry was when you were sleep. You came home and still cried all day, every day. She was mad. We asked her what was your name, and she said she didn't give you one. She said she had five days. Then she called her sister."

"Are you sure you can leave the hospital and don't have a name for your baby? That's not fair." My sister later told me I shouted angrily.

"Fair or not, that's what happened. Ask momma or have her call auntie. She'll tell you."

Confused, I asked, "if the middle names are so important, then why don't people talk about them or use them?"

To this question, she answered, "I don't know. Even if they have one, they just don't think about it."

Later at school, I asked the classmate what her middle name was. She told me, then added all her family members had one.

momma refused to answer my question. She just laughed. An odd thing to do. Why did she think it was funny? That was my momma. I couldn't wait to call my aunt.

My mother's sister. The two were like oil and water is all I can say. Her smile was loving, and her extra large bosom; comfort. In fact she was such an inspiration to me and so loving that I wanted to leave home to live with her in the next state. My reasoning for wanting to live with her had nothing to do with the middle name and everything to do with the number of cousins living there. None. Because he'd already left home.

Well, my aunt confirmed what my eldest sister told me.

And I always felt close to her. But she kept that secret from me. She gave me my lovely name. Then I asked why didn't she give me a middle name? She replied, "because your momma only asked me for a first name."

So it was my mother's fault again. A simple solution, yet she didn't ask for a middle name I'm sure my aunt would have given freely.

I felt as though a balloon had popped. Then realized I would receive no other answers.

I remember failing first grade. The next year, a light came on. I was off to the races and realized I was a thinker. A problem solver. Smart. Resourceful.

Thinking about my middle name years later, I realized something about my mother. By the time I was born after four other children, she simply couldn't think in the midst of my constant crying and whining. It wasn't as though she didn't have nine months to come up with something that resembled a female, she probably just didn't want to deal with another girl child.

If you don't have answers, wild thoughts surface. Perhaps she intended to leave me at the hospital, so didn't bother to think of a name. Something must have happened at the last moment, so she took me home.

I totally understood as an adult. But at the time, I was heartbroken and jealous of everyone who had a middle name. And I forgave my aunt. The bottom line was that when my momma asked, she gladly stepped in. For that, I'm grateful.

So I was left to wander through life without a precious, sought-after middle name that all my siblings, friends, classmates, and strangers I asked had that undeniable resource.

A Middle Name.

I longed for one. I tried to give myself one. But my family would have none of it. And none of them would help me out.

Nothing would satisfy me. I made myself miserable over the situation for many years. I held it against my mother the best I could for as long as I could. However, pouting, taking longer than necessary to complete my chores, and displaying anger at my siblings didn't move my mother to give me a middle name. I didn't understand the complicated procedure it would take to correct her mistake. I didn't care.

When all my efforts failed, another light came on.

After reaching adulthood and marrying, I decided to solve my middle nameless situation myself. I used my maiden name as my middle name whenever and wherever I deemed fit. All this was done "unofficially". I was now satisfied I could place the full middle name or an initial.

As an adult with my own children, I made sure they have middle names and suitable "nicknames".

I continued this practice for many decades until a harsh reality unveiled itself.

My driver's license stated one name. Various names appeared on my earnings statements from my various jobs. Credit cards and banks were registered differently.

Only my voter's registration information contained correct information.

Therein lay the problem. Several years ago my state changed the identification requirements for voting. That's another issue for another time.

But the bottom line was that my driver's license didn't match my voting registration. I was a voting "exception" or "inconsistency". A term and documentation utilized to indicate a voting irregularity at the voting precinct. And we all know that in this day and climate surrounding voting issues, one less contested ballot is a Godsend.

Only one solution. Correct my driver's license.

The procedure and documentation required to change one's driver's license were an ordeal. A laundry list of items was required, including my original birth certificate or a certified duplicate copy.

The day spent at the Dept. of Public Safety's office was a nightmare in terms of wait time, documentation, and explanation of why I registered my license incorrectly so many years ago.

Once I left the DPS, a massive headache attacked. Served me right, I thought. That day I realized that what you do in life at any given point affects the rest of your life. I had no idea the problems I would cause by adding an unofficial name on official documents.

As far as my earnings records were concerned, I was required to supply the various names I'd used that corresponded to my social security number.

I can blame my poor momma, now deceased, for setting the wheels in motion. What good would that do? Because I can only blame myself for exacerbating the issue I felt was important enough to my life's happiness to venture down that absurd path.

All I can say in my defense is that I wanted a Middle Name.

For my theme, I was inspired by and utilized the @daily.prompt's publishing of:

1 July 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2420: inspiration to me

25 June 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2414: my mother’s sister; and

22 June 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2411: fair or not