Helen Costantino

HELEN A. COSTANTINO (nee Dackiewicz), beloved wife for 67 years of the late Michael; loving mother of Michael (Joan Barker), Ron (wife Debbie), Mark (wife Janet), Karen and Kevin; devoted grandmother of Jennifer, Christopher, Jaime, Jessica, Andrea, Anthony, and AnaMaria and great-grandmother of 9; cherished daughter of the late Andrew and Frances (nee Wolna) Dackiewicz; beloved sister of Stanley Dackiewicz and dearest sister of the late John Dackiewicz, Mary Markiewicz, Ann Zorotz, Frank Dackiewicz, Angela Hocevar, Walter Dackiewicz and Baby Agnes Dackiewicz; dearest Godmother of LeeAnn Price and Steven Dackiewicz; treasured Aunt and Great Aunt of many. 

How do we highlight a journey of almost one hundred years? How do we say thank you..to you, Mom..and to God for giving us all these years with you and Dad? We saw the sacrifices when you peeled away parts of you for each of us to succeed, feel protected and loved. In the end, we saw that you, literally, offered every last ounce and piece of you to your family. 

…….We had heard of the skinny little blonde girl that ran the streets surrounding East 33rd Street. Surviving in a large family with immigrant parents. On the very rare occasion someone brought home donuts, you and your sister, Ann, stole yours and hid them on top of the swing to save for later (and so your brothers did not eat them all first). You were a dutiful daughter, always going to the market for your mother, translating for her, always helping her at home, obedient to your father (even if meant varnishing the stairs), and respecting them for their sacrifice to leave their homeland and start anew here, no other family in Cleveland. You were born with the strongest constitution, with the most earnest work ethic and fiercest loyalty. You probably did not envision that these were traits you would instill in your offspring, but you did.

As you married your high school sweetheart when he was on leave from the Army in the Korean War; you left your family to join him at Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Maryland. There you had your first child..and you survived such challenging conditions. You may not have felt like it, but this was how your journey as a warrior commenced. Your love for Dad and Mikey was a veil over the dirt basement and lights with coffee cans as shades. Your life would evolve into struggling as a young wife and mother, to excelling as a homemaker, to dedicating your last decades to enjoying Dad and your grandchildren.

As each of us was born..each a few years apart..you never wavered in providing for us – at your expense. Dad did not want you to work in order to fulfill your vocation as a Mom, which you embraced. On that single income, we all attended Catholic school for at least eight years, some for twelve. We played instruments and all of the sports available; you sat in bleachers and in the outfield; you helped out in school lunchrooms, field trips and Girl Scout troop activities. And in that time, you never missed packing a lunch (complete with thermoses of soup, treats and notes), setting out dinner as soon as Dad walked in the door, and serving as warden over homework. We never had a summer without a vacation – and are proud of the generation that survived the wood-paneled station wagon. The youngest two of us in the death trap rear-facing seat and well. Our childhood is punctuated a little with the scent of bleach wafting in the basement..diapers and baseball sanitary socks soaking..mixed in with a pine bouquet of Lestoil. 

We take time now to apologize for missing curfew and keeping you up waiting for us, for getting into trouble at school, for losing our tempers, for putting the liver and brussel sprouts in a napkin in the pencil cup up by the phone, for sneaking a peak at you wrapping gifts. 

We thank you for bringing our shoes to school when we forgot them when we wore our snow boots, for bringing the 15 cents to school when we forgot our milk money, for nursing back after every illness, for making Christmas so magical in our home. So, so magical. 

As your family grew and years passed, you finally let yourself experience life and traveled with Dad, visited friends, forged a bond with the Red Hat Ladies, went to Ohio State and Indians games, took up residence on a slot machine stool, and started to “retire” from cooking after passing the torch. God granted you mobility until only your final last few years, but He never stole YOU. 

You were a fastidious guardian of your children, and your children’s children. When you were diagnosed with Parkinson’s in your late Sixties, you did what you did best..took control, took it on and never gave up - a near three decade battle that you WON. It seems as if we would be letting you down if we ask how we will survive without you. You spent your life teaching us and gave us all the tools to survive because you gave us your all. You stayed at home, you were always in your surroundings and, as Dad wanted, were provided every comfort. You gave a last fist bump and, literally, smiled until the end. 

In your last hours, you mouthed, “I want to go home.” We understood. It was not home, but HOME. We were left to imagine what it was like to have Dad reaching out to you finally after nearly five years apart….the rush of running into his arms and God releasing you from a life so well-lived. 

Mom, dziekuje bardzo.

You left this world in your happy place, with your family’s touch upon you, watching Law & Order SVU, and with the Christmas tree and holiday lights casting a sparkling, special glow onto you. We had the honor to be with you at your last breath because you were with us from our first.

Mass of Christian Burial Friday, January 24, 2025 at St. Casimir Catholic Church 8223 Sowinski Ave, Cleveland, Ohio 44103 at 11 AM. Burial following at Ohio Western Reserve National Cemetery at 1:45 PM with a luncheon to follow (location TBD). Family will receive friends to pay tribute to and celebrate the life of Helen at THE DeJOHN-FLYNN-MYLOTT FUNERAL HOME OF WILLOUGHBY HILLS, 28890 CHARDON ROAD (between Bishop Rd. and Rt. 91) THURSDAY 3 - 7 PM.