One of the most difficult things I have had to do in my lifetime is name my children. Our firstborn was without her name for her entire first month. When I considered that my children would become identified by their names, along with our last name which is another story altogether, the decision seemed all the more daunting.
When people ask me about my last name, which is Smoker, I like to one-up them by telling them that my husband’s aunt was Constance Smoker, and his uncle was Ernest Smoker. Our helpful friends had all kinds of suggestions when I was expecting our babies. Names like Pipe, Non, and Pot. Uh huh, as if.
Our son’s name is James, which is a name I have always loved. We thought it was a safe name as far as teasing or misspelling or mis-hearing but when he was in college the other students misheard his name during role call. One day, a friend asked him why the teacher kept calling him “Chain Smoker”. I guess James Smoker sounds a little like chain smoker. Anyway, you can’t think of all eventualities when it comes to naming.
My friend is 10 weeks pregnant and when I spoke with her the other day, she said her future baby’s name needed to feel right in her mouth. That makes sense to me. It’s one of the words she is going to say with great frequency and it has to feel right in all kinds of emotional circumstances. Giving the choice the consideration it deserves requires time, patience and respect for the one who will bear it. It’s the first of many decisions a parent makes for her child of which the child bears the brunt or blessing. As if the sound of the name isn’t enough to wrestle over, there’s the importance of its meaning. No wonder the decision feels weighty!
What’s remarkable to me is that some people become the meaning of their name. My name means “helper of mankind”. Helping is something I love and is a major part of who I am. My name has become my identity as well as what I am called by.
My husband’s name, on the other hand, means “nobby hill”. I’m not sure what to make of that. It’s a good thing I like the sound of it. He likes the name Sam. It means, “His name is God”. His name is actually Gord, which is awfully close to God. Hmmm. Maybe it’s a good thing he’s not Sam. I have enough trouble with my inferiority complex!
