[Recently, an old friend/new reader of TIE O’ THE DAY asked me to explain why my first name and my middle name seemingly switched places at some point in my life. This answer below is based on a post I wrote here about my name a few years ago.]
Helen A. Wright and Helen E. Wright star in these two slide pix. My full, legal name is—and always has been—Helen Eileen Wright, and until I graduated from DHS and left Delta, I went by the name Eileen. For whatever reason, my family called me by my middle name, so that’s what everyone else called me.
When I had to begin filling out all the paperwork that comes with being an adult—like college applications, job applications, rental applications, my passport application, etc.—it was so complicated to keep using my middle name as my first name, because my Social Security card had my “real” name on it. So I gradually became a Helen. I also have been referred to as far back as high school as Helen, Jr., Li’l Hel, H. E., Helen E., and prob other variations I can’t recall right now. I’ve been known as Helen for much longer than I was Eileen, so it’s almost impossible for me to think of me as anything but a Helen. I’m perfectly cool with whatever you’re comfortable calling me.
When the switch happened, I found that I liked wearing the name “Helen” better than “Eileen.” Nobody ever got the spelling right on Eileen. Helen was more me-ish. And what I liked most about making the change to my official first name was that there aren’t many women who have their mothers’ first names. More women should. I’m glad I do. I have always looked up to Mom, so her name was something I’ve strived to respect. It’s inspired me to be more like her. Wearing her name has definitely made me a better woman than I would have been otherwise.
What this whole name thing means is that I’ve had a childhood name and an adult name. Depending on what name you use to address me, I know—and everybody else around me knows—whether you first knew me when I was a kid, or whether you discovered me as an adult.
When my parents were trying to come up with a name for me, they were stumped. I was almost named Melanie. And then I was almost named Rhonda—so they could fit yet another “Ron” into the family. They settled on the name of one of Mom’s nurses, who was such a key part of Mom’s touch-and-go recovery from my birth, Eileen Boothe. If Mom needed anything, Eileen made sure she was taken care of. Mom had nearly died giving birth to me. Dr. Bird had to give her a half-dozen blood transfusions, and he told her, “No more babies, Helen.” (And then Dad had a little operation, if ya know what I mean. 😉)
Anyhoo… Dad was giving me my baby blessing in church, and when he got to the naming part, he gave me Mom’s first name, as my own first name. “Eileen” would be my middle name. Mom was surprised. They had never talked about doing that. After he’d blessed me with her name, he told Mom he figured she’d had such a difficult time delivering me into the world that she deserved to have me named after her. I’m grateful he did that. I try to honor her name, knowing I will forever fall short. But I try.
