When I began blogging this past year, your Momma was one of the very first friends I met.
Visiting her blog, I felt the very special love she had for each of you, and that love blanketed you with warmth, comfort and happiness. Your Momma didn't just share her love with you. We were all blessed to share a part of that blanket.
Shortly after I started posting, I took ill with a virus and she posted to me: "Cynthia, you need to listen to your Jewish Momma. You need chicken soup. Preferably homemade, but canned will do in a pinch. The thing is, with canned, it's not made with love, so it takes much more of their soup to cure an illness. Homemade chicken soup works so well because it's made with lots of love. Oh yeah, and you gotta have more than one chicken in the soup, if you're really that sick. The sicker you are, the more chickens and love needed for a complete cure.This is true. Know how I know? Because my Dad told me so, and daddies never lie to their little girls. At least my Daddy never lied to me. And my Bubbie (Jewish grandma) told me that, too. So you see, it must be true. So - in true Jewish Momma fashion - eat, eat. It'll make you feel better. Trust me."
I remember reading her words and thinking, "My Sweet Jewish Momma, how dear you are to me." Later Helena posted that you three and herself had been down with the flu. She told how her homeade chicken soup was gone, as she had fed it all to you and made you better. Now she was down and no chicken soup on hand. She told of the chicken soup her Daddy made. This was not just a recipe of ingredients, but a recipe of Love.
Zoe, Madison and Jonathon, your Momma's love still blankets you in warmth. Her love for you will never go away, and you will always be comforted. When you miss your Momma, feel sad or lonely; make yourself some chicken soup; with lots of chicken. Just as I know your Momma's chicken soup was made with not just her love, but also her Daddy's.
Your soup will be flavored with not just the Love you add. It will be rich with your Momma's love. And smile each day, knowing, there are many of us who are making chicken soup, with lots of chicken, and your Momma is adding her Love to it also.
Cynthia Martinez
Page Visits
Memories of Helena
Our friend, Helena Kemp, passed away Thursday, February 21, 2008. She truly was a Thrice Blessed Momma. Helena is peacefully at rest with her husband Andrew, who went to Heaven 2 years ago. She was the Mother of Madison, Zoe and Jonathan, her five year old triplets, and they truly were her greatest treasures.
If anyone would like to contribute a post about Helena or to Madison, Zoe and Jonathan, please email either of us, and we would be honored to add it for you.
Thank you for "kind words" to these beautiful children.
~ Gina and Tanya ~
If anyone would like to contribute a post about Helena or to Madison, Zoe and Jonathan, please email either of us, and we would be honored to add it for you.
Thank you for "kind words" to these beautiful children.
~ Gina and Tanya ~
Thrice Blessed Momma - Helena's Blog
Helena's blog ~ Thrice Blessed Momma ~ can be read at this link. Comments left on Helena's blog will not post due to the fact that they would need to be approved first, and the email account is no longer valid.
Please leave any new comments, prayers or thoughts to honor Helena, or her children, on this memorial blog. Thank you.
Please leave any new comments, prayers or thoughts to honor Helena, or her children, on this memorial blog. Thank you.
In honor of her life. . . .
Mother
The young mother set her foot on the path of life. "Is this the long way?" she asked. And the guide said: "Yes and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning."
But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and the young Mother cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."
Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said, "Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come."
And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children," A little patience and we are there." So the children climbed, and when they reached the top they said, "Mother, we would not have done it without you." And the mother, when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said, "This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage. Today, I've given them strength."
And the next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said: "Look up. Lift your eyes to the light. "And the children looked and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory, and it guided them beyond the darkness. And that night the Mother said, "This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God." And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew old and she was little and bent.
But her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And when the way was rough, they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill, and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And mother said, "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them." And the children said, "You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates."
And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said: "We cannot see her but she is with us still. A Mother like ours is more than a memory. She is a living presence......."
Your Mother is always with you.... She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street; she's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks; she's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.
Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized in every tear drop. She's the place you came from, your first home; and she's the map you follow with every step you take.
She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space... not even death!
But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and the young Mother cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."
Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said, "Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come."
And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children," A little patience and we are there." So the children climbed, and when they reached the top they said, "Mother, we would not have done it without you." And the mother, when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said, "This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage. Today, I've given them strength."
And the next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said: "Look up. Lift your eyes to the light. "And the children looked and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory, and it guided them beyond the darkness. And that night the Mother said, "This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God." And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew old and she was little and bent.
But her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And when the way was rough, they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill, and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And mother said, "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them." And the children said, "You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates."
And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said: "We cannot see her but she is with us still. A Mother like ours is more than a memory. She is a living presence......."
Your Mother is always with you.... She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street; she's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks; she's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.
Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized in every tear drop. She's the place you came from, your first home; and she's the map you follow with every step you take.
She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space... not even death!