The Art of Living Part One

Helen Caccumise was a very inspirational person. She loved drawing, painting, music and reading books. She owned a Veterans home in Greenwich Ohio, where I live. She has known my grandma Sandy for thirty years. They started the Veterans Home together. I always went up to the veterans home when I was little; it was around the time I started to call Helen, Granny Helen. She was a second mother to everyone. She would be the one to say that everyone looks for the perfect life to step into. They take all the right paths to get where they want to go, but no matter what, they always come back home to themselves. I usually went up there to hang out with a guy named Pat, he was a veteran. He went into the service when he was in his twenties. We were best friends but then something happened and everything changed when Megan (Helen’s Daughter) took over the veteran’s home. Helen lived in the house across from ours, so i always went to her house. She bought me my first ferby. She was the one that told my sister if she ate a full cigarette that she would be a smoker when she got older. Of course my sister ate it; guess what she is now a full time smoker, it’s funny how things work out that way.I’m writing about what happened the day Helen died because it’s still fresh in my memory, like it happened yesterday. I’m still getting over the loss of her. I spent most of my time with Helen because she helped me through my troubled times and she always wanted to listen to me play my bass guitar. So I owe her everything I own. If writing this memoir would help me find a way to get rid of the guilt then I’ll do it.