Let Me Tell You A Story About My Name

My name is Alison. I am called Al, Alice, Ali. I endure the standard joke upon introductions, when thinking themselves incredibly clever, someone invariably calls me Alison Wonderland. My name is terribly important to me. I hate seeing it misspelled. So what did I do when I became a mother? Passed down the curse of the one L, of course. Poor Philip, he has born the burden well.

I was almost named Alice after my daddy’s favorite aunt. The one who wrote the now faded letter telling Daddy the father who deserted him had up and died on him, as well. But my mother liked Alison better and so after a rather heated argument Daddy agreed to call me Alison with one L and NO Middle Name. He said Alison was enough of a name for anybody and he was right.

The lack of a middle name hurt my feelings as a child, but on the bright side, gave me license to create a new one for myself weekly! A dream situation for an imaginative girl who loved words as much as I did and still do!

So now you know the story behind my name. I hope to share more interesting tidbits in the weeks to come. Do I hope to become a world famous blogger? Not really, although I wouldn’t complain about it. I am basically writing down family stories because I have reached that age where I am now the matriarch of my family… gray hair, chin whiskers and all! Since I want to be remembered for more than needing a monthly wax job, I am sharing some memories, some dreams and some family folklore in hopes that they will live in my family’s heart long after my chin hairs cease to grow. Hope you enjoy them, too!