Take a bath

Last weekend I decided to take a bath even though I rarely do.  Strangely I find them dull and quite tiresome, but when I saw a little bottle of bath oil on the shelf I changed my mind. I would give it another try.

Helena took a lot of baths during her illness because it helped her with her pain. She would draw a really hot bath, light a candle, and drop in some Jo Malone Red Roses bath oil. It was a gift from a considerate friend over the summer and Helena just loved it.

Somehow it has managed to survive all our moves and when I smell the bath oil now, I am immediately brought back to our time together in the English countryside in May. Helena was at her weakest and she would often ask me to get things organised for her to take a quiet bath.

I remember a special day where we managed to get out for a little walk on the country road. We couldn't go far but Helena suddenly saw some flowers and insisted we pick a few. I reached down and picked the ones she pointed at with determination.

She clutched the spring flowers all the way home and then put them in a little glass. I had already forgotten all about them when I went up to draw her bath a few hours later, but there they sat next to the bath, as delicate and beautiful as our dear Helena. It made me smile as I reflected how she always knew how to appreciate the little things and make them stand out, no matter how small.

 Jo Malone Red Rose Bath Oil

Guest Post: Camilla Hallmans

For some time I have thought about contributing to this blog and sharing my memories of Helena. I finally found the impetus to write when one evening I pulled out the book Anne wrote about the Old Town in Stockholm, and when I opened it a photo slipped out.

It was a picture of Helena and I taken during my visit to Milan. It is a trip I remember with true warmth because like so many of you have already described, Helena always made sure one felt at home and saw as much as possible of her new hometown. Our friendship, though, began many years earlier.

The two of us in Milan

Helena out on the town in Milan

Helena and I got to know each other in high school when we were in the same class at Lidingö, a suburb of Stockholm. She was a very good student and on a number of occasions proved that she knew even more than our teachers about the English language and the African wildlife.

Helena took her studies very seriously and I especially remember the time when she did a presentation in front of the whole school dressed in a folk costume. Very few people at that age would have had the courage to do such a thing, and I remember that I always admired her for it.

After just a year together in the same class Helena told me she was moving. This time the moving boxes were headed for Uganda. It was news that struck me very hard. We were going to be separated and Africa seemed terribly far away. Would we ever see each other again?

But through letters we stayed in touch and we always met up when Helena was back in Sweden. I have many good memories of holidays at Gotland where I went with joy to visit every summer.

Helena and I dressed for the medieval week at Gotland

Crayfish party with the Ostmans and friends at Gotland

Ready for a night out on the town in Visby

When Helena then studied and worked in many different places around the world, it was a fantastic joy and privilege to visit and be a part of her exciting life. It was a true inspiration to know a person with such vision and ambition in life. Indeed, this is what made it so very hard to accept that Helena was sick. How could a person so full of life be so sick?

When I received the news that Helena had passed away the feeling was similar to when she told me she was moving away to Uganda. We parted, again. And once again I didn't want to think it was forever.

I miss you Helena. You are always in my heart.

Österlen

We spent the past ten days at my grandparent's house in Österlen, a beautiful spot on the coast in southern Sweden. It is a place we have come to for years to spend time with family, recuperate, and eat grandma's delicious home cooking.

Helena loved to come here and she often made little trips here, even on her own. It was in fact her favourite spot to study for exams during university. She would get up early, study diligently, join the grandparents for a walk along the beach, and eat at least five of grandma's little semlor a day.

For those of you who don't know semlor are swedish treats made up of a humble bun stuffed with an almond paste and toped with cream. They are traditionally made in the months leading up to lent; an indulgence before the fast.

Delicious Semlor

Helena absolutely loved them and our grandmother would always make them especially for her. She says that one time Helena ate so many during her stay that she couldn't button her jeans when she was going home!

This ability to let go, eat what you want, wear whatever, and take a step back from life in the big world is what makes Österlen so special. And Helena felt this magic from very early on. When we visited the area as little girls she went for a walk in the forest with grandma and she said, "You know, I think this is paradise grandma. But I don't know why they have planted the greenery so carelessly".

This is one of grandma's favourite stories about Helena. I think she loves it because it shows Helena's appreciation for beauty but also her usual candour, humour, and desire for order and tidiness.

Helena and Grandma Gittan

Helena, Grandpa Lasse, Gittan, Pricken (the dog) and me

Beautiful Helena on the beach at Osterlen