Desperately Seeking Kathleen

I preface this post by telling you I am grasping at ideas for my blog, in an effort not to give up writing at all. It occurred to me last night, that what once started as a joyous hobby for me has become something I have little energy for anymore. Please don't misunderstand, I love my new job and all of the lovely friends I have made at Pottery Barn since I started to work there, it's just that, I have so little energy for anything other than superficial entertainment.

I look to my name for answers. All my life I have been called Kathy or as my German mother would say, Katee ("a" being a short vowel) and Kitty by my father who wasn't around most of my life. None the less, I find the name Kitty endearing, even to this day, because my father was the only one ever allowed to call me Kitty. However, I was told from the time I was a little girl that I was named Kathleen after the Irish song "Take me Home Kathleen". I have always loved the name Kathleen, but never used it because there was always someone else in school or at my places of employment that had already laid claim to the more formal name of Kathleen.

When my mother passed away two years ago I was reconnected with the daughter of one of my mothers longest standing friends (who then passed away two months to the day of my own mother's passing). My mother's friend Hildagard had named her daughter Kathleen. Hildagard's daughter is a few years older than I am. Our mothers had met in Germany long before either one of them became mothers. As I was chatting with Kathleen, she told me that my mother had named me after her. I told her that my mother had told me that she named me after the song "Take Me Home Kathleen". Kathleen corrected me and said that she had been named after the song and that I was named after her. Well, we will never know for sure, will we? Anyway, I think it's a great story.

Between 2007 and 2008 I took three trips to Europe. One of those trips was spent visiting my dear childhood friend Sybil and her husband Herbie. While I was at their home I was telling my friend and her husband of my desire to be called Kathleen and the story behind how I came by the name of Kathleen. Herbie announced to me that from that moment on I would be called Kathleen in their home. In that moment, I felt the energy associated with my name.

I have a book called the "The Secret Universe of Names". In this interesting book, it is suggested, Kathleen's who choose to go by Kathy, are signaling the world that they don't take themselves too seriously. That being said, I should tell you that my new co-workers know me by the name of Kathleen.

Maybe it's because I am getting so close to reaching the age of sixty that I do want to be taken more seriously, even if it's only me that takes me more seriously. I am tired of the thoughts in my head that accuse me of being superficial and undisciplined, and a dumb blond. I want the more serious powerful side of my personality to emerge and be given credit for the of depth and wisdom which, at the very least, should come with my life experience.

I'll take you home again, Kathleen
Across the ocean wild and wide
To where your heart has ever been
Since you were first my bonnie bride.
The roses all have left your cheek.
I've watched them fade away and die
Your voice is sad when e'er you speak
And tears bedim your loving eyes.
Oh! I will take you back, Kathleen
To where your heart will feel no pain
And when the fields are fresh and green
I'II take you to your home again!
I know you love me, Kathleen, dear
Your heart was ever fond and true.
I always feel when you are near
That life holds nothing, dear, but you.
The smiles that once you gave to me
I scarcely ever see them now
Though many, many times I see
A dark'ning shadow on your brow.
To that dear home beyond the sea
My Kathleen shall again return.
And when thy old friends welcome thee
Thy loving heart will cease to yearn.
Where laughs the little silver stream
Beside your mother's humble cot
And brightest rays of sunshine gleam
There all your grief will be forgot.