lillian the home poet

Mother named me Lillian
her mother’s namesake.
My father’s twin sister’s moniker as well,
much to my mother’s chagrin.
She chose the middle name of Mae
after a favorite aunt,
the likes of who I don’t recall.
But because of her,
twelve cousins called me Lilly Mae.
To everyone else, I was Lillian

The momentous moment of change came
when my parents left me on my own
to begin my college days.
First person I met on that idyllic campus,
I announced my name as Lill
and that’s who I became.
Years later, titles attached themselves.
Mrs. Hallberg, high school teacher.
Dr. Hallberg, the PhD kind.
Dean Hallberg, career topper.

Now rejuvenated (never say retired)
I’m happily back to Lill.
Except when I’m lillian-the-home-poet.
Capitalization not preferred
because after all, it’s just me.

NAPOWRIMO Day 21. Prompt: Write a poem in which you muse on your name and nicknames you’ve been given.

PHOTO of my mother and I and my new two-wheeler bicycle. From tricycle to this. In the 1950s, either they didn’t have small bikes or “training wheels” for kids to learn on or else my folks could only afford to buy me one “big girl’s bike”. One distinct memory I have of my childhood is my dad hanging on to the back of this bike, running along on the sidewalk while I was trying to balance, feeling like I was flying and then looking back and seeing him half-way down the block behind me! I don’t recall if I immediately fell or not….I just remember that feeling and then seeing him so far away, realizing I was riding on my own!