Guardian of Her Memory or Don’t Forget the Ponagation If someone you loved were murdered, you would understand what a contradiction of emotions ensues when the horror of her death is her memory. It hurts. Nothing could be more wrong. I am attempting to right a wrong. Her memory should be sweet, because that’s who my mom, Helen, was. This is for my children and grandchildren who never met her, I’m sure they are curious to know Helen Klassen. One day I will die, but I don’t want my thoughts of her to fade away, which is why I’m writing a few memories. Here is a simple tribute to the wonder that was my very own special mom. You would have loved her. This memoir has a curious subtitle. It refers to the matter of the Ponagation. You may be wondering why the Ponagation shouldn’t be forgotten, and you may doubt if there is such a thing as a Ponagation. Put your doubts aside. The Ponagation was born, May 9th, 1927, the day my mother was born. It was ingrained in her soul, and her finger of warning wagged when she said—with furrowed brow,” Don’t forget the Ponagation.” Mom said[…]