What is in a name?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet." -Juliet from Romeo and Juliet

So that quote is Juliet talking to herself about how she loves Romeo who is forbidden to her, because he is a Montague and she a Capulet. She is telling herself that only if her "lover" or soon to be lover had a different last name they could be happy together.

This has nothing to do with my point. I just thought you, the reader, should know the title of this post's origin, because knowledge is power people!

So my FIRST name is Turner and my LAST name is Renick. I am emphasize that they are my first and last, because it seems to confuse just about everyone I come into contact with. I called the health department the other day to get a copy on my immunization records. Just a normal day. Well after being transferred three times and stating my name and purpose a woman finally seemed capable of finding my records. She asked my for my first name with which I responded with "Turner". Which she then said, "No, I said your first name."

You would think by the age of 23 soon to be 24 (in a couple of months) that I would be use to people not understanding that I have a better grasp on my first name than they do, since they are complete strangers and all.

Having a last name for a first name can be confusing, to most. I was named Turner after my grandmother. Her maiden name was Turner. My mother named me after her, because well she loved her mom and wanted her name to carry on. (Might I mention my middle name is Annette the same as my grandmother's middle name).

 Being named after my Grandmother, Boots, is the greatest gift I've ever been blessed with. My name is unique first off. I don't know another Turner. Every now and then I will get random people who tell me they know a Turner, but luckily I have never met one. Secondly, my name has meaning. My mom didn't just choose a random popular name because she liked it Thirdly, my mom named me after the person she loved most, well until she met me. Fourthly, My Grandmother was one of my most favorite people.

My grandmother, I called Meme and others called Boots, was a stubborn, loving, strong, advanced, kind, mean, wonderful woman. The two of us are rather alike. When we would go visit her she would always scratch my back. Not rub, but scratch. She would scratch it for what seemed like forever and at times it felt like all the skin from my back was gone. Slowly she was taken away from me, very slowly. She was diagnosed with dementia when I was around 12, and it took her mentally away from me, slowly. That was one of the hardest things seeing one of your favorite people drained from their own body. I pray she didn't know what was going on around her, because if she did that would have been the worse torture to ever go through. It was bad enough to see someone you love go through it, I cannot comprehend losing every memory of your life and then forgetting how to do anything for yourself like walking, eating, swallowing, or breathing.

It was torture seeing her go through that, but I know I carry her name with me. I use to hate my name when I was young, but when you are young you are stupid. I use to dream about changing my name. I wanted to change it to Courtney. How unmeaningful (I know that isn't a word). Kids use to tease me about my name calling me Turner Classic Movies and turnip greens. They seem rather harmless, but at the time they hurt, like I said kids are stupid. But now that I have grown up and my grandmother has died, I am more than grateful that my mother named me Turner Annette Renick.