My dash began on a Monday. June 4, 1962 to be exact. I'm told my mother wasn't exactly thrilled about a June pregnancy in the south Florida heat. That is, until she found out that she finally had a baby girl. After giving birth to three boys during the ten years prior, she didn't believe the nurse. She challenged her to repeat the phrase over and over again. "You have a girl. You have a girl."
Apparently, my name was supposed to be Donald. My room had been painted baby blue in anticipation of the next male to be born into our family. I had begun to wonder through the years how and why my parents chose the name they did. Was there some beautiful, life inspiring message behind my name? Did it have a meaning that would influence how my personality would develop over the years?
So, I finally asked my father one day why he chose the name "Linda." I soon discovered there were no such "epiphany creating" meanings behind my given title. I'm told instead that my father had met a very friendly cashier at the Grand Union grocery store earlier that week...named, Linda.