My name.
Rather the process of naming me.
Momma went through several names and Daddy didn't like any of them, including Deonna. He liked plain old, ordinary and old fashioned names.
Her thoughts were:
Mary Melissa
Courtney Cyan
Momma liked compound names and double letters. Because of this, you would have thought he would have liked Mary Melissa.
She got her wish for the unusual with Deonna and Daddy agreed as long as he could pick the middle name. In the 60's, common girls names were Ann, Renee, Kay, Marie, Carol and Lynn. Daddy chose Lynn. Momma still tried to convince him to make it unique by adding an “e” to end or dropping an “n”. No go! In fact, in the south, nicknames are prominent and practically a prerequisite.
“What did you name her?”
“Deonna”
“What will you call her?”
My eccentric grandmother voted for Deo (thank you dear parents for sparing me that one!!!).
They settled upon Dede. ONE word.
In school, the classroom rolls always had Deonna and no one could pronounce it. They tried to say it phonetically (the phonics in their heads) and it came out as Dee-Oh-na or Dee Anna (that “o” must be a typo) Donna (that “e” must be a typo). So it was a hassle to correct their pronunciation and spelling most of my life. Dede WAS easier but was also misspelled and drawn out DEEEEE-DEEEEE. No people! It's simply Dede. Quick and just ONE word.
Kids are still cruel and they will find ways to turn almost any name into an insult. So I became Dede the Doo Doo. In the 5th grade, in new neighborhood and at a new school, I opted for the alter ego of Lynn. It lasted just one year – it confused everyone. Once we moved back to our part of town, following my parents divorce, I ran into childhood friends who knew me as Dede, it was simply too hard to keep up.
I failed to mention my last name also gave me trouble: Hendrix – not Hendricks.
My high school diploma read:
Dionne Hendricks
I wonder if someone from my French Class wasn't a part of getting the diplomas printed.
I tried to tell people I was Jimi's cousin. That didn't work but it brought forth a few chuckles.
When I met my first husband, his little sister's name was Dee Dee ( shorten from Dee Anna). Some of his family didn't want the confusion and stated they would just call me Dee. I didn't like that at all. So I proceeded to tell them, they could call me Deonna. My name had already been shorten and really did not appreciate them TELLING me what my “new” name would be. At least up north and out west they could PRONOUNCE it; even if they forever misspelled it as Deanna.
And I remained Deonna to their family and people I met from that day foreword. My family continued with Dede and my younger siblings called me Sissy or Sisser. Until the time came when we separated and I moved back to my part of the world and went to interview for a job in my hometown. I had been officially Deonna for nearly 5 years. After being hired, I was introduced to the staff as Deonna Robinson and a guy came out of his office and said “Hey! That's Dede Hendrix!”
Back to square one.
After 3 years at “home”, my children and I ventured away (never to return to live, mind you) and I was able to settle back into Deonna. Ahhhh, so much better.
Then my brother, Bill, married Dedie. I know, right?
Southern nickname for her given family name of Adelia. My brother refuses to call me Deonna and calls us respectfully: “Sister Dede and Dedie Wife”. Did I mention that my first husband's name was Bill. A vaudeville act for certain. “Where's Dede? She's with Bill. Which Bill? Her Bill or her Bill? Where's Bill? He's with Dedie? Dede or Dedie?”
Fortunately we never had to endure that comedy act but picturing it cracks me up. The Bill names will be addressed later. If you only knew how many Bills I have had to endure since birth!
Outside of Dede, Lynn, Deonna, Sissy and Sister Dede, my husband calls me Angel and my daughter went through a spell where she called me Giraffe. She had simply called me “Mama, Mama, Mama.” one too many times in the course of an afternoon.
My tolerance had been met and told her not to call me Mama ANY more! She looked a bit startled and puzzled as she inquired, “What will I call you then?”
“I don't care. Just do not call me Mama.”
Her expression was obviously that of a three year old troubleshooting the situation. Her eyes lit up and she said, “Okay! I will call you giraffe!” I couldn't help but smile and to this day, she still gives me tokens of giraffes – a memory of that day.
There were several years as a childcare teacher, I was referred to as Miss Deonna and there is the multiple personalities of my storytelling character Dippide-Dee. All of my kid's friends call me Mama D. Strangely, I do not mind that endearment – my name now reduced to a simple letter. Hopefully I will be a Nonni some day to something other than my “grand-dogger”, Maggie Mae. My sweet friend, Jacob, christened me Nonni. As a toddler, he could not pronounce Deonna (imagine that). Oddly, my mother had wanted to be called Nonni as “grandmother” but Paul had other plans. She was named Sammamammi; shortened to Sammy. It's so funny how the first grandchild claims the rites to christening their grandparents.
As for now, you all know me as one or the other or multiples. Perhaps you were just recently introduced to me and I am Danny Leonn. Glad to make your acquaintance.
Have you figured it out?
