Miguel is the name that I inherited when I was born, and it will be the name that I take to the grave. Growing up, I believed that my name was a bit funny and odd at times, but I didn’t really know too much about it. Whenever I thought of my name, It was like a frog in the desert, I had no clue where it came from, or why it came to be. Withdrawn from my family all the way from Mexico, I could never even begin to think of the history that the name Miguel carried.
I shared the name Miguel with my mother’s uncle, who was considered by the whole world, as better than ordinary. I learned that he was the exact definition of humble, and was know to lend a hand to anyone, even a stranger from another universe. Despite the poverty and violence that he experienced and witnessed throughout his life, he maintained a reputation for being a dedicated strong hard worker. He was aimed towards providing his loved ones a better future no matter what got in his way. No one ever felt unloved by him, not even the clouds in the sky. To me, it appeared that he carried the weight of the world, and his passion and drive for everything around him gave a clear meaning to the name Miguel. Many a times I hear the name Miguel everywhere I go, but it’s just another Miguel in the willows of time. It doesn’t put a grin on my face, but instead it reminds me of how unique the history behind my name is. Knowing where my name came from and what kind of meaning it carries inspires me to be the best person that I can be, and hopefully retrace in uncle’s steps of being dedicated towards achieving my greatest goals and desires. My name will serve as a platform of support to remind me who I am, and what aspirations I hold for the future.