My name.
When my dad was younger he rode bulls. He and his brother were cowboys in a sense. So I assume that was one of the reasons he chose my name. The last name of “buffalo bill” was Cody. When I asked when I was younger, my dad said the bull rode uncle Deano more than uncle Deano rode the bull. And even though you have the potential to make money more likely to brake your butt, when trying to ride a bull.   But, when I was younger that didn’t stop me from wanting to.
My sister’s name is Katy, and my mom said that my dad wanted two kids, a boy named Cody, and a girl named Katy. On my mom’s side I’m Irish and on my dad’s side I’m Scottish. In Gaelic Irish my name means “wealthy” according to “ baby name wizard” , and this same website said the in Irish ( not Gaelic Irish normal Irish) my name means “helpful” and in England my name means “ helpful cushion”.  My name always reminds me I’m real and I can make a difference like water moving through a river, carving a rock. My name is shared and it is with one of the worlds most remembered hunters, and as though names shape a person like the sands of time or be passed to child, as if the family’s blood line can give the next the knowledge of the last, I love hunting, and I love to ride horses. And my name reminds me I’m loved, for my parents named me and left their old lives behind to raise me into the person I am. One saying I’ve heard, unfortunately I can’t remember from where, a child is a copy of the knowledge of the ones before them. This means that as the family line continues the father passes his knowledge to his son, and when he has a son he will pass down the knowledge of his father and the knowledge he has gained through his own life.  All in all I like my name, I was named after “Buffalo Bill” Cody, it tells me I am real and can make a difference in the world and that my parents have loved me sense birth, my name can identify with the Irish side of my bloodline, and it makes me smile, because it reminds me of the story about uncle Deano, when he and my dad rode bull’s together.
But, a little while back I found out that I do have English blood in my bloodline. This was a small shock to me. But I find it ironic. Because, the Irish and the English were at war against each other constantly and, the Scottish hated the English with a passion. As well as the Native Americans. But, I also love it in a way. My blood line descends from some of the most success full and most terrifying warriors in history.
I found out when I was younger that apparently on my mom’s side there was a slave trader. I am not proud of the fact at all. But, it’s the truth. But it’s also funny in a way. The Scots were enslaved by the English in one point in time. The Scots were enslaved before black people or African Americans were enslaved.