In January 1962 I was almost named LuAnn. That was the name my mother had selected for her new little girl. But this girl was not so little, tipping the scale at 10 pounds. When my father first saw me, he called me Big Louie. That was all the reason my mother needed to change my name. So Laura, not LuAnn, was written on my birth certificate.
I don’t remember when my mother told me I was almost named LuAnn. But the story makes me smile, even now, with the 11th anniversary of her death only a few months away. I’m not sure why she’d picked the name LuAnn, but Laura was her middle name and the name of one of her aunts. Since I value family connections, I’m glad there’s a story attached to my name. I was almost LuAnn, but I am Laura, always.