My Name

I don't dislike my name. I actually really like my name and never have considered changing it. I like it solo and like it when matched with my middle name. The fact that it is not an overly common name does not bother me now, in adulthood. As a child, though, it was a source of frustration.

Whereas my sister could always find items personalized with her name; mugs, key-chains, magnets... the kind of memorabilia each child gravitates towards while on vacation, I always needed to settle for generic version of the same. Although exactly the same, the lack of my name on such objects made them feel less mine and more meant for anybody.

Then came the year that we studied New York history in school. I was thrilled, overjoyed really, to find out that the highest point in the state was Mount Marcy; and it was spelled correctly. My name was an important part of New York State history!

Oh the joy I felt when studying the Adirondecks. Any mention of Mount Marcy immediately brought me joy. I am sure that we studied much more than this one place in New York State. I am sure that we studied the history of the state in great specific detail. I am positive that we discussed NY politics and areas of far greater importance than this highly elevated point, such as NY City and our capital, Albany. I am sure we discussed New York's role in the Revolutionary War Era and which historical figures slept where and why. For me, that has all been buried deep beneath the fact that my name has significance in New York.

The only way to reach the summit is to hike. Not being from a personal or familial history of great hikers, it never occurred to me then or now that I may one day reach the summit. I am just happy to know that it is there.

Last summer we were in Santa Fe and imagine my joy when tour guide books and maps mentioned Marcy Street; spelled correctly once again. Marcy Street was a great find. A wonderful Tapas restaurant has residence there and we enjoyed a delightful lunch within its cool interior.

My name has just enough of an uncommon nature to it that I have had people read quickly over my name and call me Nancy or Mary; both significantly more common in our vernacular. I always stop to correct the person in a questioning manner "Did you mean Marcy?". It is frustrating enough to be called the wrong name, but when I have had this happen while in-patient in a hospital; either for the birth of my children or for surgery, I become every medical professionals worst nightmare. I question if the medication that they are trying to give me is really for me or is it for some Mary or Nancy? Is that blood work being done for me or for another patient? I question and make them check and double check and check again.

But for all the non-personalized knick-knacks and confusion by those who read too fast or assume that my name is something else, I really do like my name.