Just weeks before you were born Hazel, Daddy's grandma Hazel or GG had grown more and more weak after a year of living with cancer growing in her body she and was finally ready to let go of this world. We sat with her for near a week. She was excited about the baby girl coming into our lives soon and concerned for you birth mama WW. The last real exchanges we had she woke up for a moment and asked how Henry was. She told me what a good boy he is and that she loves him. Then she asked if the baby was born and if they (being you Hazel and WW) were okay. I told her it had only been a day and you (Hazel) weren't born yet and you (Henny) were fine with staying with Grandma P and Bahboo. GG Hazel was a pretty amazing woman. I spoke at her funeral and we tried to honor her by naming our baby girl after her. It is a tall order but we hope that you will become the strong woman she was. I loved her so, and feel pain as I think that you will never be held by her, taste her noodles and cookies or read through catalogs and books together. We are grateful Henry did get to experience this. The funeral was hard for Henny and it came across in quiet ways. Henny expressed confusion after his first visit back to the house she shared with Grandma LaJean. Hen said he went in there and she just wasn't there. Hen also resisted calling baby sister by her name but as we talked about it in a few days he told us that, "we had a Hazel and she is dead." For now Henny calls you Boingy Furry instead. As more time passes he says Hazel every so often. For Daddy and I a big hole is left. She loved you Hazel, before you were even born and had compassion for your birth mom.
Henry you were her light and she longed to see you more and more as she knew she wasn't going to be around much longer. She encouraged her Henry to do the things at her place we might not allow. Fun things. The last day she was aware you went and got the box of twinkies out of the pantry. She wasn't really eating at all, that was until you brought your twinkie to her and split it with her. She ate her half. She couldn't turn down her Hen.
At her funeral her casket had a little rose wreath with one rose for each great grandchild. In the center of the lavender was a small little rose bud, for you, the sweet girl that was on her way any day. GG was trying to hold on to meet you. I know that. She had so much love for the little sweet pea yet to grace us.
The following is what I read to honor her at her funeral. It is long but I wanted to keep it safe somewhere other than my hard drive. It isn't edited but if you've started to read Mama's blog you already know my mechanics are beyond atrocious. My defense is going to be it was intended to be spoken not read. Many people besides you read the blog and may remember the posts about GG Hazel and may enjoy reading it too.
I was so fortunate to have her in my life.
Love, Mama
(Any of the photos can be clicked on to make larger)
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It is a beautiful thing to know that Grandma Hazel and Grandpa Carl are together again; a love that carried Hazel even in her final days, a love that shaped her life and her faith. They met because 18 year old Hazel “needed” to know the handsome ball player driving that cool Ford Coupe, and her cousin Lila could do the introducing.
Ironically enough,
their first date in the fancy car became derailed when said car
wouldn’t start! About a year later they were married anyway, that was
1937. She entered the marriage a beautician with her own shop and
growing list of clients. About 5 years later they had Ruthanne and 5
years after that Marilyn Jean. Days after Jean’s 5th birthday Hazel
received the worst news a 34 year old mother of 2 could get. There had
been an accident at work that took Carl’s life. He delivered heating
oil to homes and on the way to a house his truck was hit by a train and
exploded. Ruthie 10, remembers that on many nights after their
mom tucked them to bed hearing her crying in the other room, asking for
God’s strength and support to get through to another day. God did give
her strength and each day she got up, worked in her own shop and cared
for her daughters. On one difficult night she opened her hymnal and
randomly the hymn
“Commit Whatever Grieves Thee” presented itself....
“Commit whatever grieves the.
Into the gracious hands
Of Him who never leaves thee.
Who heav’n and earth commands.
Who points to clouds their courses,
Who winds and waters obey
He will direct thy footsteps
And find for thee a way.”
The
words gave her comfort and the fortitude to be the strongest she could
be, to move forward as a mother and small business woman in a time when
this was not the norm nor expected. Hazel was the first to say that her family and friends helped her often but her humility doesn’t negate the growth in her faith and resolve it took for her to keep on keeping on. She leaned on her oldest daughter Ruthanne during her young years. A tough thing but they grew very close. Ruthanne cherishes the times they crawled into bed together, having many chats, sharing time and worries. In a tender moment just before Hazel’s passing Ruthanne crawled into bed for a special cuddle. For a single mother feeling unsure she was proud of her daughters’ accomplishments. The tragic events which solidified her connection with God also became an important part of her girls’ lives too.
Perhaps it was the experience with Carl’s death and her faith that created Hazel’s deeply caring and merciful nature toward those in need. Hazel’s faith instilled a giving and thankful spirit. The smallest helpful notion toward her ensured a pie, apple crisp, noodles or cookies; a labor of love for her and a most personal sign of gratitude for who you are and what you mean to her.
Her granddaughter, Jenn recounted her respect for grandma when Hazel announced her retirement and her clients told Hazel they still needed her she agreed to still see them in her home, never wanting to disappoint. It was hard for Hazel to lose her last client a few years ago.
Daddy and Great Grandma Hazel |
Henny eating homemade Lodi applesauce, with coffee cake in waiting. |
Carrie, Hazel and Kristin |
GG and daughter Ruthie video chatting with Sarah and Jonny |
4 Generations at Zaharako's |
When he was seriously ill this winter I found the interviews on his Ipod and played them for him, her voice brought him comfort and peace. When I told Hazel about it she cried and was grateful as she couldn’t be there with him.
Living close Kristin and Steven had the advantages of weekly sleepovers complete with homemade caramel corn and spooky movies, but even the grandchildren in Toledo; Amy, David and Jenn, knew the unique gift their grandmother was. Many people love you in your life but none will be more genuine than the way Hazel both freely and openly received your love and the whole-hearted non-judgmental way she returned it. She, without reserve would tell you the things she appreciated about you, and she’d do this often.
In recent years Hazel’s daughter Jean moved her into her home gifting her 12 years of independence, a sometimes challenging thing to live your adult life with your mother but a gift all the same. Jean will miss their mandatory breakfasts together and early evening Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy matches. With Hazel’s sharp mind even up to her last week she solved all of the word jumbles in faster time then Jean, Kristin and Carrie combined.
As for my connection with Hazel? I’m her grandson Steve’s wife, but she loved me as if I were always connected. I feel she really saw me. We had such honest conversations and I miss that already. For my dad, who’s mom died almost two decades ago, she was a surrogate mom. It came him comfort to eat her food and kid with her of her Kroger pies. From my mom they were kindred spirits and they liked to joke together bringing out her sassy side.
She taught me to quilt, we completed several together for the great grandkids before she was no longer able to do a full one alone. The evening before her weakness took her over she handed off to me her last quilt; a sampler that featured a block from many of her quilts. I scrambled to ask all of my quilting questions before I could no longer. I believe she put it out knowing I’d “put my
stitches down” and finish it. I got it turned once before she was gone. There are many of her last stitches showing struggle and desire to finish what she started. The frame bears the wear of hands and as I finish the last blocks I will touch these places to connect again with my grandma. A great, independent, strong woman. A faithful servant to the lord, steadfast in prayer and in her lifelong love for Carl, her daughters, grand children and great grandchildren all helped her die without fear. I will miss you so much!
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