A blessing in disguise

My father read the story of the Greek god
Apollo and his beloved youth, Hyacinthus. He
fell in love with the story of how tragedy was
turned into beauty (for Hyacinthus died while playing discus with his love and Apollo used
his spilled blood to create a flower - he named it hyacinth). My father then decided to name his second born Hyacinth. He wanted her to live up to the tale. He got what he wished for. From the day she was born tragedy had begun to weave its way into her life. This tragedy was so strong,she almost killed her mother - and herself - while life was being given to her. As a little child she experienced abuse and neglect from the father who cursed her with this name. As a teenager she got her heart stolen, broken and buried. She morphed into a cold,hard rock...with a conscience. But, in the same breath, she was moulded into a strong young female.

I guess I should thank my father for blessing me with this name.