Helena

Have you ever tried to put into words how you feel about someone who has been your role model your entire life? I’ll save you the hassle. It’s almost impossible.

We celebrated Nana Helena’s 98th birthday today. As I sat there with her, I was consumed by my emotions and memories of the last 38 years came flashing back. She might be losing her memory and hearing, but Nana Helena hasn’t lost her class and pride. At one point during our visit, she even pulled out her compact mirror and complained about her hair.

Birthday selfies with Nana Helena.

Nana Helena has always been independent. She started cooking when she was 15 and didn’t stop until she was 87. That’s right. She worked in the kitchen until she was 87. Jeez. And I’m over here hoping I don’t have to work past next year. Kidding. Someone has to pay for hockey. In fact, some of my favorite childhood memories are watching her in the kitchen, doing her thing like a boss and making the best clam chowder around. I still haven’t found one that can even compare.

Before Nico & Amelia took over the Market Restaurant in Annisquam, there were grumblings around town that the Market wasn’t the same since Helena left. Heck, even the Washington Post gave her a shoutout in this 2004 article. I wasn’t around back in her heyday, but I would give anything to see her slaying it in the kitchen. And maybe even enjoying a nice scotch with her after a busy shift.

She worked hard and rewarded herself with travel. She would go on safaris. Ride with camels. Boat trips. You name it. She did it. And she did it all solo. She made friends across the globe and would continue to stay in touch through the mail. Handwritten letters were always (and still are) her thing. I swear she gets the thank you card in the mail before we even leave the house. Nana Helena taught me a lot about etiquette. Always thank people for opening their home. Never show up empty handed and always (no excuses) send a thank you card.

With etiquette comes grace. My grandmother and grandfather were divorced but that never stopped the two of them from spending Christmas morning with us. As a family. My nana could have easily held a grudge with the way things went down between her and my grandfather. She didn’t. He remarried. She never did. She sat there, watched us open presents (don’t even get me started on her bag of gifts) and held her head up high. No one was going to out class Helena. No one.

Thanksgiving 1986?  Not much has changed...me still stuffing my face. 

It's been hard on all of us to watch her age. Our visits are becoming shorter and so is our time with her. Her memory may be fading but my memories are filled with all the wonderful times we shared with her.

Giving Nan my wedding bouquet. I don't talk about my wedding much...for obvious reasons. But this photo. Tear.