I always thought that my name was a generic, slightly retro, American name. But I never thought it had any meaning outside of the reason my mom gave me for ascribing such tag.

That is until an old friend doing a google search shared with me new revelation. It is of French and Greek origin, not found before the 1920s. It is a combination of either “cherry fruit; green gemstone” or a derivative of the French word Cherie, meaning “dear or beloved” or “darling.” Deliciously rich I guess.

But what is really in a name? The thoughts conjured up in our minds at the sounding of a name – i.e. Bertha (I already know what you are thinking…) –  although at times quite a useful Darwinian phenomena, unfortunately place blinders on our minds-eye to see and perceive a person/place/thing as we expect them/it to be rather than what they really are.

Either way, I am convinced that people take on the meaning of their names, whether they know it or not. The old adage “a rose is still a rose” is merely folk etymology - we may never prove the essence of that flower apart from its name (at least in the English language). There is something to this naming game – the numerical values, syllables, root and base of the word, its narrative and origins. Even more, how our own sense of self is inextricably weaved in with this label.

As for me, I can’t image having any other name. I may not like cherry fruit or own (sadly enough) any green gemstones, but Beloved Darling, sure…I’ll take that.

Song: Cheryl
Album: Compact Jazz
Artist: George Shearing