Victoria Easter doesn’t exist anymore.
She slipped away on January 19th 2013.
Victoria Wilson took her place.
It is very strange for me to answer to the surname of ‘Wilson’. For years, ‘Wilson’ was simply my pastor’s family. Then, I became very interested in the Benjamin variety of ‘Wilson’. Not long after, ‘Wilson’ became a tattoo on my journal – inked onto a notebook’s worth of pages. Much to my surprise, Ben Wilson became my ‘Wilson’. Now, quicker than you can say “holy matrimony”, he has turned me into his ‘Wilson’.
As I said, it does take time adjusting to a new name. I
am was an ‘Easter’ for 23 years – certainly enough time for a name to grow on a person. My actions have always been very ‘Easter’ish. A voice that carries across a crowded room? Easter. Being the slowest-quickest eater around? Easter. Cracking witty jokes for hours on end? Easter. Face like an emotional billboard? Easter.
A ‘Wilson’ is a very different creature. Quite, calm, not much for company and even less for conversation. Very un-‘Easter’ish.
And here I am, an Easter-turned-Wilson.
Every bride doesn’t take her groom’s name, but I did. I wanted to. Now, by choice, I’m met with the very interesting task of becoming a branch between two family trees. According to the United States government, I am “Victoria Easter Wilson”. I do proudly wear my husband’s last name, but I also want our children to one day know a bit about this ‘Victoria Easter’ gal. If I happen to have a daughter one day and she gets in trouble for talking too much, I can tell her to not worry – because she’s part Easter. If I happen to have a son one day and he wonders why everyone knows what he’s thinking, I can tell him it comes with the territory – because he’s part Easter. But if my children turn out to be quiet, calm, and not much for company they’ll have to learn more about their father – because they’re part Wilson, too.