Right up until the end of her life, Hazel was strong and sassy and full of the spark that comes from having lived through nine decades of a life stitched together with threads of sadness and joy.
She had lost one son who was only two years old, and another daughter who was in her fifties. She also buried her husband and weathered numerous other storms throughout her ninety-two years of life.
Hazel was always known for being a looker and for being fastidious about her appearance; in fact, even as she lay peacefully in her casket, she was arrayed in a lace gown, complemented by a string of pearls and matching nail polish.
As lovely and ladylike as Hazel always appeared, she was no shrinking violet. Stories are told of her sitting on her back porch, seeing some birds in the distance, and grabbing a shotgun to shoot herself some dinner. Hazel’s hands—with their color coordinated manicure—could handle a gun with the best of them. You did not mess with Hazel!
Hazel’s son, Charles, is a long time member of our church and he asked Steve to preach his mom’s funeral yesterday afternoon. The funeral was held graveside and thankfully the weather cooperated beautifully–clear, sunny, in the 50’s. A perfect Carolina winter day.
As Steve, Sarah and I walked toward the funeral tent, we ran into an acquaintance who was singing at the funeral.
He was stuck on one particular chord in his song and asked Steve for some assistance.
When the time came for him to sing, he did a beautiful job of it, his clear voice ringing out over the crowd of people who had come to pay their final respects to Miss Hazel.
Steve shared some stories about Hazel . . .
. . . both serious and funny.
And when he spoke the ancient words, “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . .” I felt tears prick my eyes as I stood under the blue sky with a community of people bound together by love and respect for a grand old lady who had lived life well.
When the brief service was over, we all spent some time hugging, chatting, and visiting in truest Southern fashion.
It was especially nice for Steve and me to have Sarah with us for the afternoon; although she doesn’t attend all the funerals that we’re involved in, this one was special to her since she and Charles have worked together on the tech team at church for three years. He always makes their work fun because he’s got a great sense of humor and enjoys teasing her.
Sarah and Mary Ann (the associate/youth pastor at our church) posed for a Lovely Ladies in Hats photo.
After we had visited with folks for a while, we headed back to our van . . .
. . . and as we walked, I couldn’t help but notice the trees scattered throughout the cemetery.
It occurred to me that cemetery trees stand like faithful, friendly sentinels, standing watch over the dearly departed after everyone has gone home.
There was one tree that especially caught my eye. It looked like it had been there for a long time and had weathered some hard things– maybe even a lightning strike or two.
But it was still standing.
And I thought about how that tree was a poignant illustration of Miss Hazel’s life. Throughout the storms and lightning strikes that pummeled her years, her unspoken motto was, “I may be a little worse for the wear and I may have a few battle scars but I’m still standing.”
And today, as her family and friends have left her alone to rest under a beautiful Carolina blue sky, that silent, scarred sentry is still there, still keeping watch above her . . . still standing.
Beautifully written, Becky. I see your analogy (?) in the trees on our coast through hurricanes and blizzards. Sometimes standing is the best we can do…and sometimes all we need to do.
Guerrina,
Yes, I’m always amazed at those strong trees holding their ground through the worst of the storms. Whoever thought a tree could set an example for us all?
That was such a beautiful tribute. I have been a tree hugger and appreciater from way back. Seriously, literally hug a tree sometime – you may feel a little funny but shortly after that silly feeling subsides you will be filled with a strength and contentment that is unexplainable, unless you hug a tree!
Mary,
I’ve never hugged a tree before literally, but have done it many, many times figuratively. I love me some trees!
Beautiful post. I also loved the trees. It brings peace to my soul!
Margie,
Trees are very peaceful, aren’t they? It’s hard to be stressed while staring at a tree. 🙂
Holly,
Glad I’m not the only one who makes typos!
Becky, this is one of your best! 🙂
Thank you, Fred. I sure enjoyed writing it!
And I LOVED the “…….life stitched together with threads of sadness and joy”…..How beutiful. Thank you Becky!
Barbara
Barbara, as soon as I wrote that line I thought, “How true that is.” Glad you liked it, too.
Becky: Miss Hazel reminded me a lot of my old friend Florence,who lived just about the same a span years that Hazel did. Florence outlived both her children, and her husband. But she never faltered in her love for God. She prayed 4 to 5 hours a day, interceding in prayer for everyone she felt needed it. She had very little, but gave any extra funds she had to Christian causes. When we heard she was near death at a local rest home, my husband went to her room (I couldn’t do it). She was alone, and he held her hand as she went to be with Jesus. That was many years ago, and I still think of her. Thank you for your Hazel story.
Jojy,
Florence sounds like an amazing, amazing lady. You were blessed to have known her and I can’t imagine how your husband felt getting to be the one to hold her hand as she went home. Beautiful.
I think I need to be a bit more vigilant in my proof reading before I comment next time, Becky! Thanks for ignoring my boo boo!!
This was such an appropriate post for me today as an aunt of mine in Wisconsin is being buried today, and I am unable to attend because of the roads and weather. Thank you for such lovely words and photos.
Thanks for the font change – I definitely can read it! It would probably be fine even if it wasn’t in bold.
Liz,
As a native Wisconsin-ite, I certainly understand how roads and weather get in the way of the best laid plans. I’m glad the post came at a good time in your life as you read about Hazel and remember the life of your aunt.
A beautiful post Becky! I especially lived your thoughts on cemetery trees! I love that! Very profound! This is definitely some of your best work (and you have a LOT of excellent work!)
I especially LOVED your thoughts not lived! Haha!
Holly,
Those trees in that particular cemetery were especially beautiful to me and spaced in such a way that it really did look like they were sentries on duty.