Remembering Helen Khori

IN MEMORY OF HELEN KHORI

Shortly after my wife and I got married, when we first lived together as empty nesters, we set upon the holidays to celebrate alone.  While sitting at the couch listening to radio or TV, she/we got the idea of, adopting a stranger for Christmas.   Volunteers put dinners together while others delivered.  The responsibility of delivering couples was to share Christmas with that family.  That is how we met Helen Khori. 

That was years ago.  If you added those years, we spent lots of time together.  While living in Chicago, we often met to assist with some of her endeavors.  Helen became a regular houseguest for a time.  It was fun being with her, and she seemed to like petting our dogs, even though she was allergic to them.  We continued meeting on a regular basis after the first Christmas, and our relationship grew.  Helen was blind and having a variety of friends was an important part of her life.

We were newlyweds, and our relationship with Helena worked to strengthen our personal bond with each other.  Sometimes the giver receives more than they give, from gratitude of people less fortunate; having Helena our friend was somewhat spiritual for us.  People with close family ties are often oblivious to things around them such as, homeless or helpless, as their personal needs take precedence.  Sixty percent of people want to leave forty percent behind. 

Being blind is not such a bad thing, people will tell you, while they travel in well-lighted places, and avoiding darkness, where few of them venture to walk.  Helen had a myriad of problems to cope with, including severe health concerns.  But those problems were miniscule when coupled with her exodus from Iraq after WWll, having to master several languages along the way, and commit to memory everything, as she had no other means of recollection.

About ten years into our relationship, we left the Chicago area to begin our life anew, building a home on our dream location, while always keeping in touch with Helen and her family.  Our fondest memories were celebrating special events with them, each eclectic and scholastically inclined, they were successful business people in their own rights.  Even after we moved, we continued to return and visit Helen. 

The last visit, we sat and talked for about one hour or so, while holding hands, exchanging well wishes and hugging each other.  You never know when things will end.   The family notified us to advise us of Helen’s death, about one week after she died.  It seemed, she wanted us to know that even though she had to go, she would still be with us.

We never expected a lifelong relationship with a stranger when we met Helen.  It might have been different had I not suffered greatly myself from a near fatal accident, shortly before that first meeting.  Months unable to move, in part on life support, similar to others on that ward, I was fortunate to leave in a wheel chair the day I got out of the hospital, and learning to walk was tedious.  Having Helen for a friend made me realize that no matter how great my problems were, they could not ever be half as bad as Helen’s could.  

My wife always had a soft spot heart for disadvantaged people.  She was my guiding influence in doing kind deeds, while I sometimes went along for the ride.  Helen's friendship gave us excuses to be together, much like any family.  Maybe that made everybody closer.