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What do we unconsciously carry with us when we are named for someone else? An annual holiday inconvenience over a name most people associate with Christmas unfolds into a meditation on family, grief, resilience, and the women whose lives echo through the generations.

It is easy in trying times to think of yourself as one small cog in the machine, a spec in the wheel of time. What can I do? What influence will this meager bit make? Childhood memories of Southern family gatherings illustrate that impact is not just how much you pay for dinner. My mission was clear and the duty assigned in no particular order. The qualifications amounted to being the closest child around and having your name called. Which was how I found myself walking with