I knew Helen for many years and was continually inspired by her friendship, joy, creativity—and energy.  For a woman small  in stature, she was a giant in all these qualities.  Thinking of her continuing life, I was reminded of another creative person, writer Neil Millar, who wrote:

“Because every endeavor is a complete event, independent of its outcome, there is more honor in venturing gloriously than in venturing ingloriously. The outcome merely ends the chapter; but the way we live our life-story is what matters, not the way each chapter ends. A new chapter begins at once.”

Sending love to David and the rest of the family,

Denis Glover, jd-glover@comcast.net

We know that our dearest Helen is continuing her work in divine Love. And that divine Love is sustaining you all. Our oneness in universal consciousness is unchanged and unchanging… Love never dies. Love carries us moment by moment, tenderly caring and nourishing.

I remember our times with you and Helen. What a precious time and wonderful memories together with Pancho and Jessica. What a kind and good woman, a faithful usher and member of TMC. Also remember the wonderful time we had together and enjoyed gatherings with family and friends, you both hosting an open house every December and then attending the Christmas Concert together and before having this delicious meal at your home.

Jean, also reminded me of our first time when we were invited to Helen and David's home and when we walked over to Harvard's memorial chapel from Helen & David’s it was a icy December. It was our first December in Boston. It was so cold that Helen gave me a warmer coat to wear that freezing day! What amazing memories!!!

I love this poem and maybe you already know it...

"Death is Nothing At All"

Poem from Henry Scott Holland

Death is nothing at all.

It does not count.

I have only slipped away into the next room.

Nothing has happened.

Everything remains exactly as it was.

I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.

Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.

Call me by the old familiar name.

Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.

Put no difference into your tone.

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.

Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.

Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

It is the same as it ever was.

There is absolute and unbroken continuity.

What is death, but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.

All is well.

It's an Infinite Progression!

Much much love and blessings to you and all.

Sylvia, Jennifer and Jessica

Back in the day, Halloween costumes were not a dime a dozen. There was no Costco nor Walmart with racks and racks of princess and pirate costumes. So, when we discovered a book that showed how to make costumes from crêpe paper, we thought we’d hit the mother lode!

Helen found an angel costume that could be made from white crêpe paper—replete with attached golden halo. The wings were quite complicated, being made up of crêpe-papery feathers, which needed to be cut individually. I’m fairly sure a parent’s dexterity was required, but don’t recall if Mom or Dad stepped up to the task. The angel wings were fabulous, and Helen loved them. She didn’t stop wearing them after Halloween and we’d see her running around the house them as though they were her right habitat. And they were!