A Bill for Three Graces

I am the younger brother of three sisters. Automatically, this gives me ample reason to have any number of complexes. The simple fact that I have spent my entire 17 years on this earth as a victim of the constant tutelage, scrutiny, and caprices of not only a set of half-sane parents but of a trio of screeching harpies without going postal should be enough to guarantee me sainthood.

The thing is, I love my sisters. I love my parents. I have a happy life, live in a happy family; I am happy.

But one thing galls me to no end. It’s a silly thing, really, something that even I realize isn’t rational. It’s my name.

Bill Grace.

O.K. I know that Bill Grace is a perfectly fine name. A strong, manly name. It meets you with a firm handshake and an honest smile and it’s a name that any mid-American male would be happy to have.

Unless he has three sisters whose names are Faith, Hope, and Charity. My parents made a conscious effort to name their daughters after the three graces. The fact that my sisters aren’t triplets would tend to imply that they were planning all the time to have three daughters and to name them after the graces. Or maybe they had a daughter, named her Faith, and when mom got pregnant with a second girl, they decided to name her Hope. And then, on the third try, they got lucky again and said “Whoopee! We’ve got three daughters! The cosmic plan worked, and we have a daughter, a Grace daughter, for each of the three graces! Hosanna! Hurrah!”

Whatever scenario you go with, the implication is that they planned, or at least hoped, to stop at three. Which, of course, leads me to the conclusion that I was an accident, for there is no fourth grace.

And of course, when you’ve done the inconceivable and conceived a fourth child when there were obviously only names allotted for three, you must give that fourth (and apparently least) child a paltry, meaningless name like Bill. Not even William. Just Bill. It’s like the nurse asked for a name to put on the birth certificate, and Dad looked at the itemized statement the hospital had just presented him with and said the first thing that came to mind. “Bill.”

Mahalo.

© 2002 Brian G. Parker