I first met Helen in 1981, when I was looking for a place to live during my time as a first-year student at Trent University. Her name was given to me by a family friend, Ethel Markewicz. I called her on a July evening and asked if I could look at the offered room. She wasn't too pleased, as I caught her off-guard and she was planning to go out to a theatre performance that night. I arranged to meet with her in quick order under the circumstances. It was a friendship that took off instantly. Our first common bond was of Germany. She told me of her son Andy living in Lahr and serving with the Armed Forces and I told her of my hope to go to Freiburg the next year to study. We would have sat down at that point to talk further, but both of us were in a hurry to get to other destinations. It was clear, however, that we were compatible and we were meant to be together. Helen treated me like family. She did nothing special for my arrival -- she was just herself, and yet it felt like I was at a retreat. I moved in on a Friday night after a week spent in orientation at Trent University. The two of us spent that evening watching TV and working on our respective knitting projects. Later that weekend, she took me to church and introduced me to some of the choir members, in which I took part that first year of University. It was a great year which saw me not just absorbed in studies, but connected to community, thanks to Helen. Helen lived her own life. She always saw the optimistic side of it, yet I know that her past was faced with a lot of pessimistic opposition. She loved her independence from that part of her past, and lived it to the fullest, without resorting to therapists, doctors, drugs or alcohol. Instead, she relied upon the following: 1) She loved family and often had them over. It was always a good time when they came together. 2) She kept music close to her. She was great at entertaining with it, whether it was incorporated with her family singing along whilst she played on her organ, or whether she got the grandchildren together to rehearse a skit for performance in front of a group of seniors. It no doubt lifted her spirits as she performed with her kitchen kuties group. And of course, the annual Havelock Country Jamboree saw Helen in attendance since its origin. Music also made a big difference in bringing the two of us together, as I performed that year in a production of 'Pirates of Penzance' and of course participated in the church choir. 3) Helen showed her creative side in her needlework, whether it was with knitting or sewing. She often would get an idea of something she wanted to make and then went right to it, giving her project a personal touch of her creativity. Sometimes, it was a pair of mitts with a colourful pattern for a grandchild. Once, it was a draft dodger in the form of a dachshund for the door. Every practical gift or project had a creative flair with a unique design trademarked by Helen. 4) Her baking was loved and admired by all. This goes without saying. Thirty-three years later, I am still trying to duplicate her wonderful oatmeal bread recipe -- one that was a staple in her home, and one that we never ever grew tired of. In later years, I would visit Helen at her home in Havelock. It was filled with her creative touch. Nothing could ever duplicate that. Everything in her home was a sign of family, friends and everything she loved about Havelock. Visiting in Havelock was like going to a retreat of 'Helen Tucker'. You would leave the rest of the world behind you and just take some time to be in another simpler, far less complex and non-problematic world. My last memorable meeting with Helen was in 2004. My cousin, Carol Booth, invited her to one of our family reunions, much to my surprise. I had just graduated with a diploma in Dental Hygiene and had two kids, both of whom were (and still are) taking violin. We had much to talk about regarding music and dentistry -- both things of which were continuing on in our separate paths of life. We were inseparable at the reunion, as we got caught up in what had been happening in our lives. Some people were annoyed by our monopolization of each other, but we didn't care. It was good to be 'home' in that retreat zone. Helen kept true to her roots, saw the joy in them and was unchanged by modern inventions which are now all-absorbing to the rest of us. I will miss that retreat to Havelock and will have to now rely upon my memory of it and what I gained in that first year of University, that had nothing to do with studies, but everything to do with the joy of living. My only hope is to somehow transcend that same, simple joy to my own children. "Well done, thou good and faithful servant."