The name Owen means noble. It is the same as “a well born man” or someone who is a good warrior. 

It is a complete thought, a finished building. Owen is a piece of slick ice. A colored picture. Always polished, even from the start.

The deep blue in the sea waves on a warm sunny day. Crashing onto the plots of land ever so quietly, but with force. It is calm—nothing quite wrong with it, but nothing quite right with it. It won’t bother you while left untouched. Laid back. A bee buzzing about. 

My sister was three years old at the time of my birth. Although it would have been hard for her to name me, I still believe she was a part of my name. ‘O’ names are not the most common, and having a kid named Olivia, my mother thought it would be fun to include another one. 

My grandparents were a strong influence in the naming process as well. My mother and her father started off by choosing a few easy, organic names. Ideas such as Leo and Bryan were suggested, but my grandmother despised the two. Without much to choose from, the only agreed upon name was Owen. 

Matthew. My middle name comes from my father’s first. It’s like the support of a bridge, the parachute to skydiving. Something necessary. It’s the foundation of a building. He’s a very hard-working man. Nothing gets by him, and he will make sure of that. Everything he does is with full effort and completed adequately- the stabilizer, the root, the understructure.

I may be a buzzing bee or peaceful ocean waves, but more importantly, I am built from my family. Each component was crafted alone–the pieces were carefully shaped like glass in a furnace or food in the oven. 

I am an ‘O’ name. I am the product of my grandparents.  I am constructed through the teachings of my father. 

I am Owen.