Names carry stories, sometimes long before we realise it.
The name Raymond comes from the old Germanic Raginmund — meaning “wise protector” or “guardian of counsel.”
For me, that meaning isn’t just something in a baby name book — it’s been my life’s path.
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In 1965, I was born six weeks premature, weighing only 4lb 4oz. At six weeks old, I was rushed to Great Ormond Street Hospital with a hole in my windpipe and food pipe. I was christened, baptised, and given last rites — just 24 hours to live. Yet I pulled through, leaving such a mark that decades later, the nurses still remembered me.
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In 2003, I was rushed to an American ER, suspected pancreatic cancer, and lost everything I’d built — yet I survived, rebuilt, and even created a support website from my hospital bed to help others.
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In December 2024, my world turned upside down again. Assaults, hospital admissions, eyesight struggles — yet still, I carry on, planning, cooking, writing, surviving.
Over and over, my journey has been about resilience, protection, and counsel. I’ve lived the name Raymond not just in letters, but in action:
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Protecting myself through survival.
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Protecting others through honesty.
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Offering counsel through my writing and example.
Now at 60, I look back and see that perhaps there was something in the name all along. I was meant to be a guardian of wisdom, a protector through truth, not by choice but by circumstance.
And if my journey shows anything, it’s this: sometimes names are more than sounds. Sometimes they’re prophecies waiting to be lived.
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