To the Best Roomie Ever

Dearest Helen,

After our last phone call, I want to tell you again that I miss you too...

Every time I make my Amish Friendship CAKE or whenever I feed my starter, I think of you and how funny you thought I was for not only seeking out the directions for creating the starter, but for maintaining a jar of it over years' time. Every time someone tells me that the phone's for me, I think of how you would let me know and I can hear you in my mind and it makes me smile. And sometimes, when I'm smiling strong and my smiley-muscles are aching, I remember when you told me "You're eyes disappear when you smile, just like mine did when I was your age." Whenever I encounter a raunchy pop-up window when online, I remember your search for Kmart's 'Blue Light Special' and I giggle madly. And when I write the word 'desperate,' I think of you. Every time I hear or see anything associated to the Wheel of Fortune, I think of you. If I'm at the doctor's office or anywhere and I hear the voice of Pat Sajak, I think of you. Every time I think about the price of bread, I remember how you told me of your childhood, how your parents kept a tab with the grocer in order to have bread and eggs for the family, while today, the eggs go bad and the bread gets moldy, we have so much more than we need. Every egg noodle I see or make, I think of you. Every time I make a chicken pot pie, either from scratch or via Marie Callender, I think of you. Every time I drive past Water St. and Lake Mead, every nickel slot machine I see (you can't escape them in Vegas), every piece of pecan pie I devour, every kind of cream pie, every baby carrot I crunch, whenever I chop a red onion, any 1/2 gallon of Moose Tracks ice cream, whenever I buy pectin or peaches, whenever I bake spaghetti squash, whenever I make Ranger cookies, every box of cordial cherries I see... I want you to know, that when I get down in the dumps -when I'm feeling unworthy- I remember that one time you told me what you really thought of me - - - I want you to know that I've missed you too and will continue to miss you. I'm so sorry that I didn't get the chance to tell you one last time just how much I love you, Helen.

Kisses,
Your Smiling Girl

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once I got settled in at work this morning, I got an unexpected call. Helen died last night. She was 87 years old. She was one of the most relaxed and down to earth women I've ever met - She was remarkable, not in that she did many socially remarkable things, but in that she knew what was important and she could see things as they are and still find the beauty of life. And she was a fabulous listener... I can still hear her 'mmm hmm...'

I hadn't known she had taken ill so suddenly...
I had had her name written on my "Things to Do" list for over a month...
I hadn't called her since the week of the angel boy-O's birthday weekend...
I was planning to drop by tomorrow night, to let her know I'd be back on the 22nd with a new set of pictures from Montreal to share with her...
I was hoping to take her to the Magic Star for $2 dollar breakfast...

I feel so badly that I hadn't visted her more recently. I lived with Helen for 3 years.
And she was the best roommate I ever had.