A Case Of Mistaken Identity?

I may not be who I think I am. On Friday, as part of a post-election, three-day weekend, I visited the local Social Security office to make sure that I’d followed Patty Duke correctly when applying online for Medicare benefits (not that I need them right away). After all, I turn 65 in 10 days. Also, I wanted to apply for a new Social Security card. I lost mine many moons ago. As part of my inquiry, I asked the helpful agent at Window No. 3 why my surname was misspelled on my new Medicare card — “Oliveira.” By the way, that’s the correct spelling for my Portuguese surname. But long before I was a twinkle in my father’s eye, he had inadvertently spelled it the way I do now “Oliveria.” His parents, who didn’t speak English, never noticed until he was married. My mother made an attempt, about my freshman year in high school, to change our surname to the correct spelling. In fact, I have a report card in which my father spelled our surname one way and mom spelled it the other. I received my first and only Social Security card about the same time, in 1963, when I started working in the alfalfa/hay fields for my Uncle Manuel. So why am I telling you all this? The helpful agent at Window No. 3 looked up the original spelling on my first security card and, voila, discovered that my surname was spelled “Oliveira.” Which means I have to get a copy of a certified birth certificate (I don’t have the original) to prove that the way I’ve spelled my name my whole life is correct. But what if it isn’t? What if I’m not who I think I am?/ DFO .