An astounding tale. An epilogue to a 2,000 year-old story spanning generations. An addition to that long carried out tradition. An ‘A’ and a ‘n’ taken away. From Andrew to Drew.

Long before my great-grandfather took the name, it was used in the bible. Saint Andrew, brother of Peter, the first pope. So simple. Yet it has so many variations. Andrew or Andy. One variation or another having been passed down every 40 years or so in my family—but never  Drew. Maybe it makes me a bit different that way. 

Farmer after farmer after farmer. That’s what my family was. Andrew after Andrew, maybe an Andy— but never a Drew. I broke the barrier on centuries of cultivating this name. Bringing a new era to the long history of names in my family. I guess I am different that way. 

Andrew. You see them all of the time. They’re your neighbors. Your classmates. Your co-workers. Now Drew, that’s a bit more riveting. Like one of Brees’ spirals, it's a beauty to behold. Tight and abrupt, getting straight to the point. Unique enough where you could go on 50 First Dates, and never see one. But when you find a good one, you feel like a contestant on The Price is Right. Now that I think about it, I kinda like being different.

I wouldn’t have it any other way. No other four-letter combination of letters could describe me better. Maybe one day I’ll run across that name, but until that time comes I am more than content with what I have. 4 letters, that’s all it took. Describing who I am.