100 days of hope — 5. Twinned with Hope

My grandmother (Mum’s mum) and her identical twin sister married two brothers. Although many great stories were born out of that interesting twist of fate, I’m writing today about twins on the other side of my family.

Because my Dad’s dad was also a twin, and his twin sister was called Hope.

I’ve always been fascinated by nominative determinism. How much of our lives are shaped by the simple word chosen as our name? Obviously the root of many of our surnames were descriptions of our family trade — Butchers, Bakers, Smiths — but as the lives we lead and jobs we work have become more diverse, the universe seems to enjoy making us question how much choice there is of how our life proceeds, and how much is destiny?

Psychologists could no doubt unpack why our names have some effect on the actions we take, but long before they had the chance, people have been hoping to take advantage of the phenomenon.

Training to become a nurse, I worked alongside and was mentored by several British African nurses who’s names followed the tradition of being virtues to live by. Blessing was my favourite, but I also enjoyed meeting Patience, Faith, Clever and Charity.

As far as my Great-Auntie Hope goes, not much is known about her any more within my close family. But I like to imagine she was a quiet but relentless optimist who kept hold of that thread of hope as she lived through World War II, through a world that will have changed a great deal during her life and a world that undoubtedly threw her some real challenges to deal with, like it does us all.

What do I want to take away from this? Maybe I’d like to borrow from another culture that knows the power of a name, the Native Americans. Where your name is descriptive and changes with you through your life. Maybe for now my name should be ‘A human on a search for hope’.

Bonus ball for good measure: