That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."
Yesterday I finally broke down and went to the Social Security office and officially and irrevocably changed my name.
As I signed the official document with my new name, initials followed by my husbands surname, I felt a sense of sadness. I had been my birth name all my life, all my adult life, and all the other lives that I have compressed into these 50 odd years. For the span of a lifetime does seem like many lifetimes. They are linked together by birth and family, event and surprise (surprise! you're pregnant!), occasions and occupations, locations and vocations, from childhood to adulthood.
For a lifetime could quite possibly be compared to a rock skipping across the surface of a lake to finally sink to the bottom after a valiant projection, defying gravity and dancing across a smooth glass like surface, skipping with a child like mirth and for those moments suspended in time, then heading to the bottom with a satisfying "plunk".
How often have I said, "That was a life time ago"?
Or "In another life time." ?
Changing my name was not easy. In my professional career I have hyphenated it because most people know me by my maiden name. My over zealous supervisor changed my name in our data base immediately after I was married. Pretty soon when my customers would call the 800 number for me (our call center is in Tampa, those people don't know me from Britney Spears)they were informed no one worked for THE COMPANY by that name!
So I guess it is about time I accept the fact that my life(s) before marriage is truly behind me. (I will be married three years this May).
I have to get over it.