What’s In A Name

Sitting in the dermatologist’s office today, I heard the young blonde receptionist call out,

“What’s your name?”

For a brief second I hesitated thinking “Which one? I have a few.”

Quickly however, I stood up and said, Anne Achenbach and realized I am becoming accustomed to being asked date of birth or the last four digits of my social security number rather than name for ID.

As I returned to my seat on the white vinyl couch where the newest issue of Vogue still remained open, I remembered when,

I was just Anne, but always Anne with an E, not like my Mom who was Ann, and never with an E

Because Anne was a popular epithet when I began school, I soon became Anne Marilyn until

The year I was confirmed when I added Teresa in honor of St. Teresa of Avila.

During the years I attended high school with at least 999 other classmates, I reverted to Anne M. Donlon. I estimate at least one half of the other girls were also named Anne with an E.

Leaving Cathedral I dropped the M when I went to Katie Gibbs, where my friends were Esther, Gloria and Phyllis, not an Anne with an E in the building

The year I married I quickly dropped the easy two syllable Donlon and became the far more difficult to pronounce Anne Achenbach. Anne Donlon soon faded into the Cleveland night where Anne Achenbach now resided.

And thus I remained for a few years until both names were quickly forgotten when I became Mom, a beloved honorific that is forever indelibly embedded on my heart.

For several years, I almost forgot who Anne with or without an E was until the year the New York Times publkished THE MAGICIAN. Without pausing to think I immediately became Anne Donlon Achenbach. I wanted the world to know Bill Donlon was my Dad even though now he only read newspapers from above.

For a brief time I had a dual personality, Anne Donlon Achenbach in print, and Anne Achenbach to those who knew me. Of course, Mom was still always the best way to identify me, but that sound seemed to come from a distance more and more as the days drifted by.

One day without warning my world crashed, and I found myself alone for the first time in 57 years. I had difficulty then trying to remember exactly who I was. It took a while but one day I knew I was still Anne with an E, and of course, Mom, even if I wasn’t quite certain who either one was.

When I moved away from all that was familiar, the long keychain of names came with me. Because of the writing, I am still identified as Anne Donlon Achenbach, but more so these days as Will’s Grandmother.

Occasionally, I hear Mom ring out from afar, but more often now the sweetest sound comes on Sunday when I hear, “Hi, Grandma,” and all the Annes with or without an E seem to fade in the distance, and I truly remember who I am.

“What’s In A Name; It’s All the Same.”