Sandy Supposes....

What's In A Name?

Bard's Hall #7

         

         

         

         

Names are personal. Whether we like our monikers or not they identify us. They give people something to call us besides hey you.

         My soon-to-be son-in-law detests the name he's been saddled with and curses his mother for her choice. She defends that fateful decision, but she doesn't have to live with it.

         When our daughter first told us the name of her beau my hubby asked, "Is he Asian?"

         Nope. The suitor is an over six-feet tall weightlifter, Caucasian and French Canadian. I've been with him when he's had to repeat his name and then been urged to spell it for clarification.

         He begins by stating, "Y," and then he draws the wrath of whomever made the request.

         There may be a loud sigh, or a glare, or a snippy comeback. "Because," they snap, "don't be rude."

         Yan shrugs and attempts to spell out his name again.

         "Y-a-n."

         "Is that it, er, um, Ian?"

         He corrects them. "No, it's Yan."

         My aunt who will officiate at the wedding this summer refers to the pending groom as Yawn.

         To me this sounds like a Scandinavian name. "That's right. My name is Jan pronounced Yawn."

         Too many times my daughter has texted me, mentioning her partner, and her cellphone has autocorrected his name to yam, or yak.Imagine having a name not recognized in predictive text.

         You may wonder if Yan has other names, middle names, to use instead. Why yes he does, but again his mother didn't do him any favours.

         He is Yan Nichole Raymond. His first middle name looks like a girl's name, Nicole. His Mom only brings out his full label when she wishes to startle him and gain his full attention. She pronounces it knee-cull. As for Raymond, it's okay, but still not what Yan prefers.

         My daughter has a lovely French name, Danielle. All her life she's corrected people to not call her Daniel which she considers insulting because she is not male.

         Her French-Canadian future mother-in-law who should pronounce this name the accepted French way instead calls her Daniel. It's frustrating, but this woman has an excuse. Her daughter insisted that a grandson's name be pronounced in the English form as Daniel and over the space of twenty-five years this has become a habit.

         Sometimes, my fellow grandma slips and refers to our mutual granddaughter as Alexandria instead of her actual name Alexandra. It may only be the difference of one vowel, but this irks my Danielle.

         Odds are that my daughter will wed a Yawn in August and giggles will be stifled.