I didn't get to attend her funeral, and I wanted to so badly, but I couldn't make it. I knew my Dad had given her Eulogy because he had contacted me a few days previously to ask for stories about her. When asked nicely, he shared his piece with me.
I wanted to have it here recorded so that I could keep it somewhere I wouldn't lose it. She was important and loved by many, but to me it seems she was just mine. In my Dad's voice, his words below. Enjoy if you like.
It was 1977 that Jenny and I were first introduced to Hazel and Bob, just shortly after they joined the church. Jenny and I were still newlyweds, having been married less than a year at the time. As seems to be the case with most newlyweds, little did we know about where life would take us, not to mention the significance of that first meeting with the Hendersons...
Our first child, Jaime was about three months old, when one day at church Bob and Hazel told us we needed to enjoy a night out. Because they were still so much in love, they knew something we had yet to learn, and that was to take time for each other, regardless of what else might compete for your attention. They also put their money where their mouth was... They told us not only should we get out, but they were going to babysit our three month old daughter, free of charge. That night was so significant, I remember the movie we went to... The first Star Wars movie. It was also significant for them, because Jaime cried the entire time we were away. But even though our child terrorized them for the 2.5 hours we were gone, they were still happy and excited for us when we returned... And no, it wasn't fake.
That night started a relationship that went far past friendship. Shortly after Bob's death, our oldest son, Aaron, was born. Hazel had already made sure I knew she expected to be the one I called when Jenny went into labour. I didn't hesitate to call her. Nor did I hesitate when Jenny miscarried, nor did I hesitate when Malcolm was born, when Keegan was born, or when Seonaid was born. In fact, we recall with fondness the night Seonaid was born... Apparently we left Hazel in such a rush we weren't very grateful hosts, so she just curled up on our couch without any blanket, not wanting to wake our kids. Jaime, who was 12 at the time, got up and noticed Hazel on the couch and put a blanket on her so she could sleep soundly. Small payback for that night of crying she submitted Hazel and Bob to twelve years previous, but our kids had already developed a love for Hazel that will always endure. Hazel attended every important occasion in the lives of our children... Baptisms, piano recitals, high school graduations, weddings... You name it, Hazel was there, for every one of them.
Here is what they told me when I asked them for some memories...
From Jaime: When I was in high school, lunchtime was really hard for me. I struggled with not having any friends to eat lunch with when it was so very important to have friends. Hazel invited me over to her house once a week to eat lunch and play piano. She was a big part of making school more bearable for me. I will always remember that seemingly small act of kindness to a teenage girl. I may not have had grandparents
close but she was always there to fill that role. When I had kids she adopted them as her great grands without a second thought. Gage was just telling me he truly loved her like a grandma and that is rare for kids. When Kolten was learning how to play piano she let him come once a week to play for her. No matter the song, she was so nice to him. She would gently encourage him and make him feel like he was a true performer. My boys also fondly remember the duck she had that delivered jelly beans out its
backside.
From Aaron: The most special thing I remember about Hazel is not an event... I just remember who she was. She was always considered our Grandma because she was there for our family and it was easy to feel her love. It made me feel special that she always remembered my birthday with a card and a phone call where she would sing Happy Birthday while playing it on the piano. When we started having kids she did the
same for them and made them feel special. She is such a kind-hearted lady and will be missed from our life. It's hard because I still remember the smell of her house and her big old car from Beny's. I love her and look forward to her hugs in the life to come.
From Malcolm: I remember her little suitcase that she'd bring whenever she babysat us. It contained clip on jewelry and necklaces... I don't think she was bringing them for me, but I remember getting good use out of them. Pizza parties at her house were always good times as well.
From Keegan: I remember Hazel taking us out for supper when we were baptized. She made us feel very special on a very special occasion, even though when it was my turn she dropped me off on the front step not realizing you guys weren't home. I also recall her performing at my school with her musical group of elderly people. They sang, "How much is that doggie in the window?" I was so proud to know a celebrity.
From Seonaid: I remember all kinds of cool things in her basement, but most of all I loved playing with her old typewriter. During high school I'd go to her home to play piano (she taught me several versions of chopsticks) and to have tea parties complete with pop and tomato sandwiches. I would gag down the sandwiches because I never had the heart to tell her I hate tomatoes.
To Jenny, Hazel was a dear friend... in spite of the fact nearly four decades separating them in age. Jenny only has fond memories of her and says they needed each other. She says Hazel made her feel so important and that she was always doing a good job. She feels so blessed to have Hazel consider our family to be like family to her, something Jenny didn't fully become aware of until about 10 years ago.
She remembers that Hazel loved to eat and that we had many home cooked family dinners together. (And, may I add, Hazel always had plenty of room left for dessert... She could put away at least as much as any of our growing boys.) These family dinners would often culminate in a game of Scrabble as Hazel would drink her cup of hot water. (Did I mention she likely had another piece of dessert?) Jenny visited Hazel at least weekly up to her dying day. During the last six months or so, Jenny ended each visit by giving Hazel a hug and telling her, "Remember I love you," to which Hazel would reply, "I love you too..." even when Jenny wasn't sure if Hazel knew who she was.
As we've heard, Hazel loved music, and in particular, playing the piano. She's played with, and for, many of you. Even the handmade greeting cards signed by "Hazel in The Hat" were adorned with musical notes. Just a couple of weeks prior to her passing, Kenzie and Kennedy, two of our granddaughters, each played a piano piece for her. In spite of the fact Hazel was in such pain, somewhat confused, and frustrated because
she couldn't communicate well, she still had periods of lucidity where she'd smile and say the music was lovely.
She also loved Scrabble and played it with a take no prisoners attitude, a fact that can be attested to by Barb Burton and others who spent many hours playing the game with her. (It's a good thing Scrabble isn't a contact sport or we may have seen a different side of Hazel, so great was her passion for the game.)
Hazel had integrity. While still living at home and driving herself wherever she needed to be, she came to our home for dinner one day and told me something had happened on the way over. Apparently she had driven through a red light and hadn't realized it until she got through the intersection. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she told me. "I'm going to stop driving." She took her car home that day, put it up for sale, and never drove again.
Hazel also had a great sense of humour. When she was living in the Valleyview and still well enough to come to our weekly Sunday family dinner, I once called her up to arrange a time to pick her up. She told me that some of the ladies had been talking about the fact some young man (me) picked her up so often. When I arrived in the lobby there were several of them, watching. Hazel gave me a big hug, took me by the arm, started walking out with me, then turned and said goodbye to them, adding with a twinkle in her eye, "I don't know if I'll be back tonight... Don't wait up for me."
Not long after that incident, Hazel asked if I'd take her picture so that she could send it out as a Christmas greeting. I decided Hazel deserved something more than just a snapshot, so I went to her residence at the Valleyview with a backdrop, lights, and all the associated requisite paraphernalia. Hazel insisted I leave her door open so that all the people walking the hall could see the model and her photo shoot. After seeing the
results of the photo shoot—the photo you see today—Hazel told me she had a whole bunch of people who wanted my services. "Because," she said, "If you can make me look this good, they all want it." Truth be told, all I did was set up the lights and backdrop and press the shutter release on the camera... The looking good part was all her doing, and it comes from a life full of serving her fellow man as the Saviour himself
would do.
Several years ago, when Dee Pitcher was the bishop of 1st Ward, Hazel told me how privileged she felt to have her bishop as her home teacher... Someone who would check up on her on a regular basis, perform acts of service for her, and leave a spiritual message in her home. She said, "I feel so spoiled." I haven't spoken to Bishop Pitcher about this, but knowing Hazel so well I can guarantee he would tell us he was the
privileged one and that, in fact, he was the one who was spoiled by being able to serve Hazel in such a manner.
This is all underscored by the fact that, after being unable to attend church for sometime due to illness, great efforts were made by her ward family to make Hazel feel welcome and comfortable when she was once again able to attend... Rides were arranged, a big soft chair was strategically placed at the back of the chapel, and ward members were once again greeted not by a handshake, but by a hug from Hazel.
And that is the legacy of Hazel Valentine Henderson. She will always be remembered as one who truly gave of herself and made everyone who crossed her path a better person for having known her. Everyone here has their own Hazel stories to tell; everyone feels like an adopted member of her family; everyone here has their own special reason for loving her. Isn't it comforting to know that some lucky dude named Bob once more has his Valentine by his side, never to be separated again.
