I was weeding at my volunteer job in the local botanical garden and chatting with a new volunteer this sunny morning. She asked my name again since we just met last week. I’ve spent maybe a couple hours with her, weeding or transplanting. I said my technique for remembering her name worked. It’s the same as my daughter, Joy’s, middle name. It’s her daughter’s middle name too, as though that was some kind of bond between us.
I was suddenly tempted to tell her that the name isn’t my daughter’s REAL name. It’s the name her adopters gave her. I didn’t name my daughter that. It’s not like I like that name. I never chose it.
There is nothing wrong with the name. It’s fine.
But I’m pissed off. And I’m not about to go into a diatribe about being forced to relinquish my oldest daughter to this woman I barely know. But if she has any sensitivity at all, she knows something is wrong. Dissembling is not my forte.
It’s my undoing. I’m still learning to reveal myself to me. Astrologically I’ve got Cancer rising. That’s what people tend to see in me. On the positive it’s very caring, nurturing. But it’s also represented by a crab, a sideways scuttling creature waving it’s ‘big claw’ at any comers, tough, fearsome and protective. But my true strength is my vulnerability, not my claw.
Looking for a picture to illustrate my thoughts I came across a twist. (turns out it’s a male crab and) “The California fiddler crabs use a lateral wave that looks much like a human beckoning ‘come here,'” deRivera said. “It also seems to serve as a ‘come hither’ signal.”