Letter to Helen

To my great-grandma Helen ~ Mother of my grandma. Matriarch of the family. Lady of mystique.

Dear Helen ~ You don’t know me, but I’ve heard stories about you all my life. I’m your daughter Sheri’s oldest granddaughter. I wish I could have met you; you’re the missing person I’m often wondering about. The older I get, the more I think about you and your impact on our family, and how at age 36, I’m a year older than you were when you were gone way too soon from this life. I often wonder how different our lives would have been had you been here with us. I think your story in particular is why I feel emotions so deeply. Why I have always thought about life and death so seriously. Why I want to live life to the fullest amount of joy and passion possible. We aren’t guaranteed a long life on this earth: we only have this present moment…

(…continued) Photographs ~ Snapshots in tones of black and white. The young and vibrant you of your youth, as a sister and wife. The mother interacting with your four precious children. The grandma and great-grandma you didn’t get to be. I didn’t get to see your life in full color. I’m thankful for the old photographs and letters though to peer into your past. It feels strange to say that I miss you. I never got the chance to meet you…have I even earned the right to miss you? I think it’s the not knowing…the mystery…that draws me to your story. We have felt the weight of your absence over the years, but perhaps we have also felt your presence. Maybe you had that same light in your eyes like Grandma Sheri does when she smiles…the way she lights up the room. If you were suddenly here today, would I see glimpses of her in you? Would I see pieces of myself in you? Would you have that sense of familiarity, like someone I’ve known my whole life?

Questions ~ I had lunch with one of your sisters last week, and she told me some stories about you. I have so many questions for you though. What was it like growing up during the Great Depression? What did you do for fun? What were your days like when your husband was overseas with the Army after World War II? What were your favorite memories with your children? What were your dreams for the future? Did you have time to dream? It’s hard for me to understand what your world was like. Times were so different back then. What I wouldn’t give for just one conversation with you.

Legacy ~ Over the years, your story has been stored in our hearts like a sacred manuscript from the past. They say you were a woman of prayer, and they talk about your love for your children. How you loved music, dancing, singing, and baking, and cooking for those in need. I would have loved to have known you and shared those activities with you. Your family was and still is held together by your legacy from decades ago. Sometimes it feels like you’re here with us…a feeling that’s hard to capture with words. I imagine you must have been a lot like Grandma Sheri. A wonderful woman…the strongest woman I know. Wise, loving, dedicated, and a great listener. I think you must have been that kind of woman too. There’s so much more I could ask and say, but for now I’ll say thank you for your legacy and for inspiring me to make each day meaningful. I had a notion to let the imagery of a memory of you glide inside a poem, and I’ll close with it now…

~ Helen Jane ~

A young girl she was when he came around,

A love bigger than life is what they found.

Across the wood floor, how swiftly they spun,

A little magic at night when the day was done.

Her joy and laughter were her family’s delight,

When they danced together, the room came alive.

Then the graphophone played a new song of romance,

A smile on her face as he asked her to slow dance.

The era was that of the mid-1930s,

It’s like I’m watching one of those old-time movies.

But black and white captures could never contain her,

Her passion and love broke free into color.

Red Sails in the Sunset was the song in the air,

Just gliding along with nary a care.

Tomorrow may come, but today let’s not fret,

Embrace this day, and dance in the moment.