That was my name. I was not meant to be a girl or have a Celtic female name now called Dee. As I was not male, they came up with an interesting name with poetic history. I was a sorrowful Irish heroine. Sorrowful as I had to teach my teacher from day one every year how to say my name and ask that he/she call me Dee.
They would tell me to move from the back of the class to the front. How did the person in front feel about that? I was brought up the front to bring me up years ahead of my peers in reading, writing and literature. I thank my parents for that.
Now Mom has been gone for nearly nine years, Dad for six months. I keep up flowers and petals are falling from hearty chrysanthemums after less than a week. It makes me sad and I can’t take another death in the family right now. Two flowers are going and one may be mine.
And Dylan. Yes, I was a the 2016 Nobel Poet Laureate’s Bob Dylan fan most of my life. I can’t play the guitar for crap but see the chords in my head. to any lyric and my fingers are too stubby and sore to be a violinist, pianist or guitarist. Dad said I had perfect pitch and he had relative pitch. He was always very proud of me. He could play instruments. I wanted to go the mall as a kid, to spend my babysitting money so quit violin.
Now, I may get to restore his violin. He got through college with calling and fiddling square dances. I would like to do this in his memory, Most likely if it is restorable it will be given to his alma mater with a violin scholarship that has already been established in his name by dear friends, including my choir teacher from 3rd grade.
I may not be a John Robert but am a Dee and try to help people, and shelter/feral animals and am getting back into music in memory of my father through my guitar, My guitar shop picked it up a step, found me a teacher, and the penultimate violin artist. Dad had way more musical talent than me. Cheers! Dee
ps 11 years after I was born we were still not allowed into the hospital to see my baby sister so waved to Mom from across the street. Dad came home and said they were calling her “Chipmunk.” NO WAY! You called all of us unusual names, give her a normal one, please. They did.