She Took My Name Today

She took my name today, radiant, white-dressed, processing in an old church of her choosing, her sisters in ugly dresses, roll their eyes when the priest says: “Mr. and Mrs. Parker,” They’re not cool with tradition, think she should stay ‘Isaacson,’ for ‘the cause,’ or something like that, but my wife does not give a damn, she took my name today. She took my name today, signed it in the hotel guest-book, in swirling, old-fashioned cursive, fine way to start our honeymoon. It looked so beautiful to me, I asked if she would hyphenate, ‘Isaacson’ is part of her too, but she is all or nothing. so I decide that our first son should be given the name Isaac, she took my name today. She took my name today, holding our little daughter tight, a stunning mess is hospital bed, but I’ve never seen her finer. ‘Isaac’ will have to wait, I guess, this girl we have named Deborah, Deborah Parker, she and her mom will share both a name and a bond, telling all that we are family. She took my name today and I am forever grateful.