"We used to laugh so hard that our kids would come to the door and tell us to shut up because we were keeping them up with our laughter," recalls Helen's husband, Harvey. Helen's lifetime of memories with Harvey began in an open convertible on their 1956 wedding day. They then flew off to a Bermuda honeymoon where, Harvey says, they were so deliriously happy they howled at the full moon. Such behavior was atypical of Helen, a shy, talented percussionist who'd planned to attend Julliard until Harvey proposed. From her engagement on, while never losing her love of music, Helen switched her passion to caring for Harvey and, eventually, their four children. Those memories started to fade a year after Helen's Alzheimer's diagnosis came at age 69. "I think what I miss most," says Harvey, "is her telling me how much she loved me."
—Frank J. Yuvancic