All children come into the world nameless and our first task is to name them. The poet above gave a name to an infant who had no name, Sweet Joy. Babies are born pure and have only distant and cloudy memories of being in the womb. Yet, they had already sensed the world outside the womb: love and hate, peace and turmoil, a tender touch to the mother’s womb or a strong and spiteful kick, and, then, they are born and the conversation becomes intense—our words, sounds, screams and shouts or tender songs. At this point we scarcely need to explain unconditional love. We teach our babies that our touch is good, our eyes sparkle with love, and our movements are tending and kind. This naming process is connected to the bonds that unite us and the vital feelings of being safe and loved. In a way this same process occurs with broken hearted adults. As caregivers we are nameless and just one of a long line of caretakers. We are just number 188, just another caretaker who will come and then leave and be just like all the others. Our relationship has to be be much more personal and our name takes on a profound importance because we want the person to create a good memory about us, one in which there is trust and a deep sense of companionship.

Often in the beginning we have to conjure up our own suffering images gathered in our life experiences in order to have an inkling of empathy. This then slowly transforms itself into a real, reality based name. The person’s name and our name take on a meaning of dignity and connectedness.