My six year old asked me a question last night that all parents dread.
“Mom, can I talk to you about something private?”
My heart jumped up into my throat with those nine words.
“I think I’d like to go by Luke from now on. Will you call me Luke? It’s a cool name.”
I wasn’t expecting this. My eyes welled up and I certainly wasn’t expecting that either. Why would this simple request make me cry?
I always knew we’d have this conversation. I thought he’d wait until he was 15 or so. Not six.
“I don’t know what to say, Lucas”, was all I could stammer, followed by, “Lucas is your name. It’s a beautiful name. Lucas. Have you talked to your dad about this?”
When all is lost, send them to the other parent, right?
“No, but I’m planing to. Tonight after Lola goes to sleep.”
He blows me away over and over again.
But, ugh. So much goes into choosing the perfect name for your child. I shared our story of naming our son in a post I wrote in November, 2009 called A Rose By Any Other Name.
I love the name Lucas. And my Lucas is such a Lucas.
I hated my name for so long but over time I grew to accept it. I truly hope Lucas does too. And for the record, I will never call him Luke.
Plus, Letters For Luke just doesn’t sound right.