My name is not my own, rather it is a part of the legacy that was entrusted to me. The only part of my name that I can say I fully own are three short letters; the other sixteen tell a story that can not be told through physical possessions.The story of my great-grandmother lives on through our shared nine-letter middle name. Before she died I was “her Elizabeth '', we had this bond through our shared name that could never be broken. Even though we were vastly different in age and temperament, it always felt like we were, in some way, tied to each other. Now that she is dead the roles have switched, whenever someone mentions her or tells me a story about her life I feel that connection to “my Elizabeth”, this woman I did not know well but know everything about.This sentiment is shared with the remaining seven letters of my name. My last name, as according to tradition, was passed down to me from my father, and to him from his grandfather. This name is an integral part of my identity, as it is literally used to identify me, but it also tells fragmented family history. This name tells the story of the near past, only going back a few generations to my great-grandparents. This name holds a lot of unknowns about the past and people that were a part of my family, but this name will also carry the unknowns of the future.Though my family does not have traditional heirlooms, those sixteen letters share the legacy that expands across time and space. I only hope to expand on the legacy that these names hold.

– LH

Relationship:  Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more