Okay, I’ll explain it. First, a visual aid: a picture of myself and my paternal grandmother.
“See how pale she is and her hair was almost white, doesn’t that remind you of a maggot?” my mothers words in reference to this picture “here she is in her larval stage”
I have a joke about my first name: it is spelled Helena, but I take the He off because smash the patriarchy. Also, Helena is for Hell.
When I was little I didn’t want to be called any cute nicknames. I only accepted awesome nicknames, like monster and maggot. I have my grandmother’s name Margaret as my middle name. Margaret is for Maggot.
That’s why my blog is HellMaggot.
I couldn’t help but call you monster, you were so damn sweet, cheerful, lively. I do love this picture, but it showed the kitchen chaos at 810. Some of my best memories of 810 is when your tribe came. When someone complains how “kids these days just look at their phones and don’t respect their elders” I think of that tribe, their kindness, their joy, their battles, their nerdiness, their open hearts.