"Remembering" What's In A Name...

Today is, of course, Remembrance Day.  The day that Canadians have set aside to remember those who have fallen or served our great country in the military, past & present.  My own father served in WWII & there are so many stories that I could share.  This year, I will choose to write about my name.  I know that sounds selfish, but I encourage you to read on.

I am the fourth child born to Roy & Vera Bartley, an insignificant fact it seems, as many are born fourth in the birth order.  The only thing that makes it significant is that my father is a WWII veteran & most people my age would have been born to men who were quite a bit younger.  However, I am the only daughter of the four children that my parents had, & more noteworthy, I am 12 years younger than my youngest brother.  Now, my mother would dig in her heels & attest to the fact that she never had a single child that she had not planned or wanted…I buy the "wanted" part but maybe…just maybe, the "planning" part was a little off.  Be that as it may, I guess they knew I was, indeed, a girl &, indeed, their last.

I believe my father played a part in naming all of my brothers, but he definitely made the decision on how I would be named.  You see, my father served in the Regina Rifles Regiment in the second world war.  He trained with his specific company, in that regiment, for four years before going into his first active battle on D-Day.  Those men became like brothers to him.  He wanted to leave some kind of a tribute to them…to remember them, so I guess he left me.

I am named Regena.  I am named after the Regina Rifles Regiment; for the men that my father so proudly served with.  My mother changed the spelling from an "i" to an "e" & for that I have suffered long.  No one seems to think I know how to spell my own name.  Legal documents have been changed, high school jackets, driver's licenses, Starbucks cups,…an endless list.  And, suddenly, with the change of one letter, no one can pronounce it either… Maybe, somehow, the frustration with my name is fitting.

I am named, first of all, for men.  (There were not women in my Dad's regiment.  I don't even think women served in active combat, in those days.)  My name is forged in pain & suffering & loss.  In hunger & cold; fear & thirst.  In camaraderie, laughter & trickery.  In loyalty, honour & courage.  In grief, faith, & triumph.  I carry, in my name, a little piece of history & a big piece of my father's heart.  I know, without doubt, he thought of those men every day of his life - the men of the Regina Rifles Regiment.

And so, on this day, & every day…I remember them & I honour them by this, my name…Regena Dyan Liski (nee Bartley)

                                             MY NAME SAKE:  The Regina Rifles...