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Rated: E · Documentary · Biographical · #1992790
An Auto-Biographical story about how I got my name
My name is Kay-Leigh. It is the most precious name my mother could have given me.



I was 6 weeks old when my mother finally named me. The nickname "baba" became "Bambi" and to be honest, I thought that was my name for the longest time. But no, my name is Kay-Leigh. It's not Hayley or Kylie or Kayleen or even Kaylee. It is Kay-Leigh.



My mother was barely an adult when children crashed into view. But always wise beyond her years and acutely aware of the weight of responsibility she held, she was careful to take time and choose perfect names for her children. She really took her time with me, her only daughter.



My mother had her first child at 18 years old, but truthfully, she had been "mothering" since she was a pre-schooler. Her parents had a violent and tempestuous relationship that made them incapable of parenting. Her mother was pregnant and married at 16, had 3 babies in 3 years and divorced shortly after her 21st birthday. Sometime during her marriage she realised that dreams were a waste of time, so she stopped dreaming and started drinking.



My mother, Celeste Audrey, being the oldest of the three, boldly took up the mantel of "mother". "Celeste" means heavenly, like a guardian angel, and "Audrey" means noble. It has other more conservative connotations as well, but noble is the definition that suits her. At the age of 6 she was getting the other two up, making breakfast and getting them to school while their mother lay sprawled in a drunken stupor on the lounge floor, that is, if she had come home at all. There was no time for childhood innocence for my mother. She had to protect her siblings.



The mantel of parenthood weighs heavily on a child but she grew strong and bore the mantel with courage and determination. What does this have to do with my name? Patience, please, I'm getting there. First, I'd like to introduce my great-grandparents.



My grandmother's parents were well to do party animals who loved to dance and socialise. The stories I've heard of my great-grandmother create picture of an ethereal nymph-like creature who floats on air and dazzles men as she sways in rhythm with the band. When I imagine her, she's always in a banquet hall, laughing free-spiritedly and without any malice. She is innocence personified and it makes people want her. Her husband shows her off like the trophy she is and revels in her beauty as though he has discovered lost treasure. I imagine them as Daisy and Gatsby, if it had not been a tragedy. Together they were flamboyant and lavish, not irresponsible by any means but certainly not concerned.



As far as history goes, I don't know if this image of them is true or fair, but it is how I know them. It is how they are depicted in my family's oral traditions.



My grandmother was the youngest of 10 children. Each partner brought a few children to the marriage; however, my grandmother was the product of both Daisy and Gatsby. Somewhere in between the live bands and the bootlegging, little baby Meredith was left to fend for herself. With 9 older siblings, she was in an extraordinary rush to grow up and perhaps that's part of the reason she threw her innocence into the arms of the first man that looked her way. Can she be blamed for longing for a moment of undivided attention? I don't think so.



Looking back on the genealogy of the women that led to me, I feel that my life should also be swinging wildly in one extreme direction or another, but I'm not. I am stable, normal, tempered, my childhood was long and innocent, responsibility was purposefully delayed but not negated entirely. Perhaps for some this is a negative state to be in, but for me, I am grateful. For my daughter, Isabelle, I am grateful.



Now to my name: my carefree and whimsical great-grandmother's name was Catherine. That being a sombre and heavy name, she went my "Kay". Catherine means pure. It is the name of queens. And it suited her. She was regal and untainted but the cares of this world. She danced through this life with grace and detachment that leaves one clear of life's messy moments.



My mother's sister was Tracey Leigh. In many ways, Tracey was her first daughter and she repeatedly called me Tracey by accident throughout my life. I believe my mother looked back and saw the free-spirited life Kay had lived and the protected life, free of premature burdens, she had tried to give Tracey and decided that she wanted both fates for me. She wanted innocence and freedom. So, while "Kay" means pure and "Leigh" means meadow, I know that my name means "innocence and freedom".



Thank you mom for my name and your dreams for my life.



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