Happy Birthday Meghan Candace

Soon after Meghan married she announced one day that she was going to change her name. I looked at her and responded casually, “Well, of course.”

“No, I don’t mean just my last name. I’m thinking of giving myself a middle name”.

“Oh” I said.

This had been a regret for me since she was born. I had always wanted her to have a middle name but her Dad did not think it was necessary for girls. I was too tired to push for it, too distracted and upset, as my Mom was admitted to the same hospital the very next day, and for these reasons Megs came away without a middle name. She and I have always been sorry for this. As the years passed and she grew in beauty and strength of character it became even more apparent I should have given her a middle name. Grace would have been my first choice - it’s beautiful and a name that signifies for me all that I felt she was and is as a person.

You can imagine my surprise in early January when I got a phone call asking me to meet her at the County building to sign the paper for her name change. It appeared that she was serious. I was struck by a couple of things. How very like Meghan it was to take matters in her own hands, to not be content with the status quo but to make right or remedy an obstacle to her sense of self. I have always admired this about her as she possesses the understanding and ability, quite like the Cheryble brothers in Dicken’s Nicholas Nickleby, to surround herself with ‘happiness chiefly of her own making’. Meghan is, and always has been, a pro active, make it happen person. Suffice it to say, the blood of Ethel Rose runs strongly through her veins.

Anyway, she had mentioned once or twice previous to that the name she wanted to add. Candace. She wanted her middle name as Candace. And though I wondered why on earth she would want part of my name, I was secretly very pleased. Still, I was not prepared for the pang of emotion I felt when she actually added officially that name.

How interesting. It’s one thing to choose a name for your child when they are newly born. They have no say in the matter and you hope they will grow up happy with your choice. It’s quite a different experience altogether when they choose to take your name for their own as an adult. I have to say I have never felt more honored, respected, validated and unworthy all at the same time.

I have always loved my name. I really have. It’s biblical and was an ancient hereditary title used by Ethiopian queens. It suits Megs well. And to think I didn't have to offer her a horse for it. (As did my Grandpa Ahijah Arnett:)

The other thing that struck me was that the older I get the more I understand and know that a name is special and important to the life of a child. What is in that name imbues the child with the qualities, hopes, and wishes of the parents and extended family.

Jewish teachings say, “Every person has three names: One his parents gave him, one others call him, and one he acquired himself.” This applies to Meghan, literally, I think, as she chose her name for herself.

Megs, you have no idea the honor you paid me by taking part of my name. What a tender, sweet thing for you to do. Names do in fact inform our identity and carry memory. They are our imprint, our personal stamp. And by choosing to add my name you said to me that your roots were worth identifying with and maybe I didn’t screw up too badly as a Mom.

This is significant to me, and makes me weep because if you only knew how many times I felt our roles should have been reversed, with you as the Mom and with me as the child. In so many ways you have been my superior: in temperament, character, ambition, style and grace.

As today is your birthday my sweet daughter, please know that if I had to do it all over again I would name you Meghan Candace without hesitation. You are forever a part of me as the name suggests. Thank you for recognizing this and for fixing this.

Happy Birthday, Meghan Candace Walker Staples. That tiny, sweet and precious little baby born 24 years ago today has far surpassed her Mothers’ hopes and dreams. E.M.S.H.A.D.L.Y.

Love, love you.