Thank you, Gabrielle. I learned something new — if your mind starts wandering — Breathe! Okay!

I love your name-what’s in a name?

My parents separated before I was born. I was born at home attended by a doctor and a midwife, named Wanda.

My mother’s two sisters talked her out of naming me, Cynthia Judith because ‘it was too old fashioned!’

My mother told Wanda to name me: so, she named me Bunny, because she thought it was cute.

By the age of three I became a foster-child within my mothers church.

When my mother registered me for church school she was told Bunny is not a real name, it is the nickname for Bernice. So, I was registered as Bernice in grade school.

So, now I am I a foster care kid and my name is not good enough, either?

Two months before I turned 17 and waiting for my birth certificate to get a Drivers License, my mother changes my name to Bernyce on my Birth Certificate.

I grow up with a duel identity, Bunny to friends, and Bernyce in the professional world. As a bank officer I am required to sign all correspondence as Bernyce. Ok!

Each time I meet new attorney’s, Beneficiaries, Guardians, or Executors, the first thing they ask — ‘Do you go by any other name besides, Bernyce?’ (WTH?). yeeesss, Bunny. They never called me Bernyce, again!

This taught me there is something wrong for which I cannot fix! Bunny, is unprofessional, and Bernyce, stinks! (?).

I decided to change my name before I became Grandma Bunny, for obvious reasons. However, my two-year-old granddaughter who barely talked to me blurted out over Easter Brunch — GRANDMA BUNNY! Rats! Too, late!

Oh, well, when I say my full name no one knows what I said, anyway!

It’s not over, yet!

While earning a Masters Degree in Criminal Justice I learned Bernice is the street name for cocaine! Well, DAMN! No wonder I have never met anyone under 65 named Bernice!

Sincerely,

Bunny Moazed MS