My Aunt Helen by Mandy Haynes

My Aunt Helen taught me to crochet and decorate cakes. She always encouraged the creative side of me. Helen would tear out her favorite pictures of jewelry from her Sundance catalogs and save them for me. For inspiration she’d say when she slipped the envelopes in my hand.

One really stressful Thanksgiving day I stopped at her house on the way to my mama’s. Instead of making me feel stupid (or guilty) for the panic attack that had me driving around in circles in East Nashville when I should’ve been driving straight down Gallatin Rd towards Greenbrier, she made me laugh. When she heard my stomach growling, she fed me coconut cake.

She loved to sew and paint and could turn nothing special into something beautiful without batting an eye.

She had a wicked smart sense of humor and was a great storyteller. Helen was not a complainer, she didn’t hold grudges, she never wished bad things on people that deserved them or said a bad word about anybody. But she did agree with me that DJT’s mouth looks like a dog’s butthole.

She was tiny, but she was fierce.

She loved shoes, purses, and long maxi dresses.

And she loved me. Aunt Helen started our phone calls with Tell me something good. And she ended most every call with I love, you hear me. Not a question, an order. You listen to me, Mandy Ann. You are loved.

Helen Frances Bruce slipped out the side door and went onto her next big adventure on May 22nd.

I don’t know about the whole heaven and hell idea – but I do believe that this life is just part of the journey. And I know Helen is no longer in pain, that she’s not afraid, and wherever she is, she’ll be getting into some good trouble soon.

I’m still numb, and I will miss her for the rest of my life, but I will never forget how special she is and how lucky I am to be HB’s niece.