30 Years of Meaning

Posted on 03 August 2009

People constantly ask me what my name means.  After all, it’s so different, there MUST be some meaning behind it.  For almost 30 years now, I haven’t had an answer.  After today, this is no longer true. 

Centuries ago, people didn’t receive a formal name until they had reached a certain age or proven themselves strong in a specific area.  After a warrior went to battle, he may have received a name like ‘unyielding eagle’ or ‘strong feather’.  I would hate to be named something like ‘hides behind rocks’ after a battle…nothing but shame there. 

Since I was named right after I came to exist on the earth and my name doesn’t technically mean anything, my life brings meaning to the name.  After almost 30 years of living on the earth, the only conclusion I can come up with is that my name means ‘woman who falls over a lot’.

This afternoon my husband and I were grocery shopping at the quaint Italian market by our house, and I crouched down to look at the different kinds of tortillas they had in stock.  While sitting on my haunches, my back gave out and I ended up rolling onto my butt and sprawling out by the very busy deli section.  Much Italian chatter about the white woman lying on the floor with corn and whole wheat tortillas in hand ensued.  Luckily, I did not grab the bakery rack to catch myself, as I am sure that would have come down as well.

Ok, I realize weird stuff happens to everyone, but I recently broke an expensive designer chair imported from Italy at this very market when I went for a cappuccino.  The same man that witnessed the chair explosion was working the deli.  He stated that I fall over a lot, and that they should put down soft carpet for me since I spend a lot of time down there.  I ducked my head and mumbled something inaudible while 12 Italian men looked on with shock.  Jon just laughed uncontrollably after pulling me up from the cement floor.

Unfortunately for me, I don’t just fall over in the Italian market.  I have been seen falling over cracks in the side walk, losing my shoes while tripping in the middle of a busy intersection on a work day downtown, crashing my bike over a mere curb and passing out, and randomly losing my footing which causes me to veer to the side unexpectedly.

I think this all has something to do with the fact that I grew up reading books.  Sports were rarely attempted.  If they were attempted it was because I was being graded and had to complete the sport to graduate high school, such as swim a mile or run 4 miles within 40 minutes.  All of these events required extra help after school.  While other kids met with their math tutors, I tried to not die while attempting the latest physical feat to pass gym class that year.

Having come to this realization, I am going to strive for a new meaning for Donloree, “Upright Woman”.  It just sounds better and means I will spend a lot less time on the ground looking up at confused people.  

1 Response to 30 Years of Meaning

Eric Brooks says:

August 4, 2009 at 1:37 am

DL – I’m pretty sure that Donloree is ancient Ugaritic for “Woman who makes her friends laugh hard enough to lose control of their bladder”

May many blessings fall your way…

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