For as long as I’ve been in existence, and perhaps even when I was a mere idea, my official name has been Patricia M. S. However, it seems like for as long as I can remember being in existence, I’ve been running away from that first name and insisting I be called upon by practical alias: Tricia. Perhaps it’s because my formal initials coincide with another popular acronym: PMS, (yes, how hilarious) or perhaps I felt my real title was somewhat stuffy. Whatever the reason, the substitution was certainly never made because I wasn’t proud of my name’s origin. My parents bestowed it upon me in honor of my strong, compassionate, and medically miraculous aunt: Patricia J. L. The recipient of two successful heart/lung transplants and the mother of two amazing boys, my Aunt Patty lived and loved the way we all should. My role model spent obscene amounts of her time in and out of the hospital over the span of almost 20 years, and yet maintained one of the liveliest spirits I have ever encountered. She could always be found entertaining or inspiring someone, whether it be from her hospital bed or from behind the kitchen counter at one of her famous celebrations. Patty died on July 23, 2008; but anyone who ever met her will tell you that they will likewise never forget. I’m not sure if she ever knew while she was alive the immense impact she had, but if I could tell her one thing now, it would be that I will take the “Patricia” torch she passed along to me and proudly run with it. Knowing that in my name, I have a head start on following in her remarkable footsteps and a connection I will never lose helps me find my strength. I’ve gained an astounding new appreciation for the beautiful title that I share with such a beautiful person, and a novel sense of responsibility to live up to it.

With that, I’m ready to declare:

My name really is Patricia.