Do you love or hate your name?
Beverly Roberts enjoys writing and has belonged to few writer's groups in Cairns. Over the years, she has written for the local Cairns Post newspaper, doing book and theatre reviews, as well as for the local Rondo Theatre. As family has always played a big part of her life, she loves writing about her family.
“What’s in a name?” said Shakespeare’s Juliet. What indeed? Do you like your name, agree with it, happy that you have it? Or do you wish your parents had given it a bit more thought?
Take my family, for example:
Child number one, a girl, parents delighted until they found that she howled all night. But that’s nothing to do with her name. Where Mum and Dad got Judith from, nobody knows. But, poor dears, they thought she’d be their only child since their future plans did not encourage an entourage. So they gave Judith both her grandmothers’ names and she became Judith Ellen Constance. As she learned to speak, she became Juda Ella Consta. And it stuck for years.
Number two, another unexpected girl, was a puzzlement. It appears there was a second-rate movie with a fading star called Beverly. Thus number two had that name – Mum was a dedicated movie fan. Second name? Oh, what the heck, make it Ann. Sits well. Problem for poor Bev was that, even to this day, most people insist on putting an ‘e’ into each name… Beverley Anne. She hates it.
Number three and four (yes, poor Mum, twins). An even more daunting task. So at the maternity hospital bedside, they wrote a variety of boy/girl names on scraps of paper, put them in two bowls, and each pulled out a name. Out came Anthony and Carolyn. They both agreed on that, but what about second names? WWII was in progress, so the decision was to look to two families who were overseas at the time. Thus, we have Anthony Albert (Mum’s young brother, flying with the RAAF. Sadly, did not return). And Carolyn Olga (Dad’s sister living in London, who came through unscathed). Neither twin liked their second names, until they were aware of their history.
Dad, bouncing Carolyn Olga on his knee, would sing to her “Cabalina Rusticana, little tiny fat anana” (child speak for ‘banana’). Anthony Albert was a bit browned off that he didn’t have a knee-bouncing name. Dad, hard put to find another operatic piece, came up with “Tony in the biscuit tin, sitting on a safety pin”. Nobody knew, then or now, what it was supposed to mean, but it stuck around, only to be brought out at times when Tony was being a pain.
Poor Mum trotted off to the doctor when the twins were about nine months old. Doctor, grinning, gave her a pat on the tummy and announced, “congratulations, you’re pregnant”. Mum burst into tears and said, “but I’ve got nine-month-old twins, I couldn’t handle it”. “Nonsense,” was his reply, “three babies are no worse than two. Cheerio, see you next month”. Poor Mum!
However, when the new boy arrived, another name was needed. Mum had always loved the name Christopher and hung out for that. But, since our surname was Roberts, Dad insisted that he would always be called Christopher Robin, and he might hate that. So Mum opted for Noel, which was as close to Christopher/Christmas as she could find. Second name? Let’s go to Grandfather this time. He became Noel George. And Mum put paid, in whichever way it was done in those days, to any more children.
So, the answer to the opening question is: A great deal of thought, sometimes irritation, but all pretty much happy with our names. Even though we became Jude, Bev, Tone, Cab, and -er-er-Noel. (How could you muck about with that?)
Thanks Mum and Dad.
PS: When Dad built our family home, he decided to call it ‘Jubecatono’. You work it out. As you’d imagine, he didn’t get his way this time!
Do you know how your parents chose your name? Or how did you decide on your children’s names? Let us know in the comments below.