I have many wonderful memories of Helen from the time I lived in Belwood.  Here are three of them.

Helen was a very caring and compassionate person.  When her friend Jeanette was killed in a car accident, Jeanette’s elderly father was devastated at the loss of his only child.  Helen vowed to take on the role of substitute caregiver.  She made time to visit Cliff regularly and often until the end of his life.

Helen had many creative gifts and she liked to share them.  I remember her teaching me, and my daughters Barbara and Sarah, how to make embossed greeting cards. We had such fun learning this new skill.

Helen was also conscientious.  One summer, my husband Oz was asked to lead worship at Faith Lutheran Church during the pastor’s vacation time.  The regular organist was also going to be away.  So Oz invited Helen to play that Sunday.  He asked her if it would be okay with her to have a hymn-sing as part of worship.  She agreed.  But she didn’t want to be asked to play a hymn she had never seen before.  And so she took the Lutheran hymnal home played every single hymn in the book!

Grandma had a huge influence on me through music. We listened together, played together, and composed and arranged. We compared notes on teaching piano and performance, and organized religious music. She came to my recitals (and Grandpa too). We kept lists and conducted experiments. We walked through the woods and thought about their music, and admired music that reflected landscapes.

Grandma left so many good memories and I can feel her presence when I play the piano. I dearly miss her daily musical notes to me.

Whenever I visited, within about half an hour Grandma would have me sitting at the piano with a new piece to sight read. She would listen from the kitchen, and toward the end come sit on the couch. When I finished she would exclaim at something she liked about it, even if it was terrible overall. 

We would play duets, laughing hysterically when we got off track, often making things up to get back to the right page. She and I would gasp for air as we giggled and listened to "Jonathon and Darlene", a duo that would add extra beats and sing slightly off-tune on purpose.

One time, she was driving me to work, and we listened to Arvo Pärt's "Fratres". It is a long, mournful piece so we drove very slowly and solemnly. I was also trying to finish my breakfast. We had been talking about death that morning and she thought this piece must be a meditation on grief. But she respectfully said she preferred to think of death as a time to celebrate a life, and a beautiful part of the cycle, not something in which we should get bogged down.

Several days before Grandma died, she drove to my house in Guelph and left me Beethoven's Sonata #3 in C Major. Her letter starts, "Happy Birthday, Dear Arthur. I loved this on the CBC." She never stopped encouraging me. I will continue to pass on her love of music for the rest of my life.

Grandma's rule was that I was not allowed to leave until all the leftovers in the fridge were eaten. That made for some funny breakfasts. Grandma loved to re-tell the time I had beef stir-fry for breakfast.

Grandma stood up for justice in the kitchen and patiently included us all in the cooking, regardless of gender. She was an advocate of local food, especially the 100-step variety, and was very conscious of world food problems. While Grandma was an excellent cook, she usually only cooked if she was going to enjoy it. She loved taking a ''vacation' on the couch while we stirred.

At various points, she advocated for the 'wash and chop' diet (you know it's healthy if you had to wash and chop something).

I will miss all of her cooking; the chunky soups (borscht, potato leek, cabbage, gypsy soup, chili), creamy vegetable soups, the lemon meringue and apple pies, sandwhich banquets, tuna burgers, tuna casserole, oatmeal cookies, shepherd's pie, cabbage and raisin salad, garden salads, fresh bread and peppered tomatoes from the garden, peaches and brown sugar, and then the traditional holiday dinners, the stuffing, jello grape salad, gravy, mashed turnip and so many other delicious entrées. 

Sometimes, the cooking would take backseat to Grandma's curiousity. She would fill metal bowls with water and play the different tones. She would mix food colouring and soap, and show us the magic of a thickening roue with butter and flour.

Everytime I heat up the cast iron pan and brown a bit of butter, I think of Grandma.

I learned many lessons of work, life and nature from our beloved Grandma Helen. I was blessed to learn many tricks from her including some in the kitchen. Grandma would tell me in a bit of a whisper... "If the men are coming in hungry from the fields for lunch and you have barely started, quickly throw some onions and butter in a pot to fry so it smells like you've been doing something!"   

Helen is preparing to go into 'town' (e.g. Fergus).

Helen: "Ron, can I do anything for your while I am in town?"

Ron: "Come home."

My grandparents had a wonderful, loving marriage; they took sincere care for one another throughout their years.

What I have come to enjoy in my Mom laterly is her sense of humor. Here she is playing games with me trying  on goofy hats. We had so much fun! We often joked around together. Even after a serious discussion she quickly would make light of things.

I miss her companionship.

Mary Churchyard