
You Gotta Be Smarter Than the Stairs
| Captain Canucks ALL CANADIAN Blog Ring Ring Owner: William Henderson Site: Wils Blog | ||||
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No, my computer troubles are not fixed but I am in Kamloops so I figured I would take the time to write something. I have missed being able to write and visit everyone every day. I'm going to have my computer looked at and see what the problem is because it's driving me crazy. Anyway, I have had all sorts of good posts planned, lots to say and I wanted to post using a picture Wil sent me, but I don't have the picture on my parent's computer so I will do that another time...hopefully soon after I get back. In the meantime, I wanted to post this quick story about my name.
So, here it is and I will come back later and post a real post when I have a chance to really sit down for a few minutes and write. Take care everyone and I MISS YOU!!!!!!!!!!!
By the way real quick, have you guys all heard avril lavigne's version of Knockin' on Heaven's Door? I for one am not a huge fan of the "cover" of good songs and also am not a huge fan of Avril but I have to cop to loving this song! Something I do not love...The new Scion automobile...what the hell is that thing anyway? If acquired in the right color it could almost be mistaken for the little bus that used to take me to school. Anyway, hope you enjoy the read and Wil, I still plan to use the fabulous picture you sent so keep your eye out for that
Beverly – Old English “From the Beaver Meadow” - this was actually from another assignment when we were supposed to write about our name. We were supposed to include some real information about the meaning behind our name as well as a more personal spin on it...so here goes:
Our relationship has always been a little strained. From the time I can remember, I always wished my name was Stephanie and for a while I actually resented having everyone refer to me as Beverly. Stephanie just seemed to fit better into all of my fantasies about who I was…I mean, who ever heard of a Princess Beverly?? When I was about 10 and had myself convinced that Cyndi Lauper was my birth mother, I knew she would never have named me something so boring as Beverly. No, I was pretty sure she would have named me something cool like Randene or Nicky or Stephanie for that matter.
As I got older, I eventually resigned myself to my fate and decided that I could probably live with being called Beverly. Besides, I was pretty certain the Department of Vital Statistics would decline my petition to legally change my name to Stephanie and there really aren’t a lot of other options for a twelve year old. I even started to feel kind of bad that I had so strongly disliked the name that was supposed to be a fond testament to the sister of my dad’s university roommate. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her, but why did she have to be named Beverly? I suppose I should be grateful that I wasn’t my brother and named after my dad’s roommate instead, whose name was Ken but who was affectionately known to everyone as “Woody.” Fortunately for my brother, the nickname didn’t survive the generation gap or it’s likely he would still be in counseling. Anyway, things really could have been a lot worse so I pushed the dream of being a Stephanie to the back of my mind and learned to accept my name; but that still didn’t mean I had to like it.
It’s amazing how your perspective can change when your world is turned upside down. I was adopted at nine months old and my parents were never told my real name. A few years ago I received the information that helped me to locate my biological family (fortunately it turns out that Cyndi Lauper is not my birth mother after all). I had no idea, as I sat in the parking lot of the social services building and opened the fil, that I would soon meet my birth family, and that through them, I would learn an important lesson about myself and my name.
When I first saw my original birth certificate, I could hardly believe my eyes or my luck. Stephanie Candice Lisa Mackay was printed in the proud printing of my birth mother. I really was a Stephanie! I eagerly read through the rest of the thick file, anxious to learn the story about this little girl. I soon realized that the Stephanie I was reading about was not the fairytale princess I had always imagined I was. Although I had long since given up that childish dream of being Princess Stephanie, it wasn’t until that moment that I realized how lucky I was to be Beverly.
I’m sure my Mom and Dad weren’t aware that the name Beverly is actually an Old English name which means “From the Beaver Meadow” (at least I hope they didn’t know it!) or I’m sure they could have come up with something better. What is a Beaver Meadow anyway? It’s a complete mystery to me. I have visions of a herd (gang?…flock?) of beavers hanging out in this open field and…well, I guess I just don’t get it. Don’t beavers have really buck teeth too? I was spared this little detail about my name until recently and I’m glad, because it surely wouldn’t have helped endear my name to me. I think I’ll get over it but I’ll probably just keep that fact to myself.
For me the name is now special, not only because it is mine, but because of the two amazing people who gave it to me; my mom and dad. The other night when starting to work on this paper, I asked my parents what was so special about the woman I was named for. It turns out that the sister of my dad’s college roommate is only half the story behind my name. That’s just the part I always knew. It wasn’t just that the name Beverly reminded them of a beautiful person they knew who was fun to be around. For them, my name meant a little girl who would changed their lives forever. They loved the name because to them, it sounded musical and you couldn’t say “Beverly” without smiling. Try it yourself slowly: Bev-ur-lee…see that smile at the end? Yep, that’s me…Princess Beverly.
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love reading your journal!
That's such a good & interesting story Beverly! How neat is that!?
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Just a thought...