My name is ever changing, as has been the nature of my existence up to now. The first, without much significant meaning, the last at times a burden I feel I must carry, or pride, or sometimes both, like I'm being torn from both ends. The only constant is the one in the middle. Four letters, neither they or the word they form unique in any way. And yet, my middle name is the only constant part of my identity that can be quantified. It's my mother's middle name, which is both ironic and comforting. Ironic, because she, as it, is the only part of my life which I can truly depend on. She is my constant. Comforting, because every time it is said I think of her, and feel overwhelming pride. For she, she is my mother, and I have seen her face worse storms than Oddysseus could dream of. My name, like my existence, may be ever changing. However there is always one piece of myself, of my life, of my identity, that I may place my faith in; my true namesake.