What’s in a name?

Grandmother wanted to name me Gabrielle. My mother didn't want people to call me Gabby. She must have had a sixth sense. My teachers in elementary and high school would have led the charge with that nickname given report card comments that often began, "sweet girl, a little too chatty."

Wanting something unusual (ironically, it's rather common nowadays), my mother baptized me Danielle Colette. I added Marie-Therese upon my confirmation at aged thirteen. And Tezcan upon my marriage a decade later. It was some 20 years before anyone actually called me Danielle.

My mother called - and calls - me any number of things - pooh bear, pumpernickel, darling, Danny Girl... I was almost an adult before I knew the song Oh Danny Boy was not an alternate (nor erroneous) rendition of the song she had sung to me.

My grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins and childhood friends called - and call - me Danny. Briefly, perhaps just the weekend of the retreat when I claimed it, despite the sweatshirt where the name even now still lives, I was Dizzy Danny. An attempt to invent a less serious version of myself - with, alas, dubious success.

I had a babysitter who called me "De-nelle." My great grandmother called me "Damn-yil" (seriously). My great great grandmother called me "Daaaaaaa-ny" in a rather sweet, gravelly sing-songy voice.

My daddy called me baby till the day he died.

Since my sophomore year in college I have been Danielle to everyone I have met. Thus, I know how long I've known someone by whether they call me Danny or Danielle.

Except...

My husband calls me canım benim (my soul) sevgilim (my darling), aşkım (my love), birtanem (sweetheart), her şeyim (my everything), hayatım (my life) and fıstık (peanut).

Once upon a time, my son called me Mommy. Now, I am Mom.

One day, if I am lucky, I will be Grandma or Nana or Granny.

Of all the names I have been called, which is my favorite? Debatable, but I think Mommy wins. Granny might overtake the lead someday...I will have to get back to you on that one.