Late in the evening of March 13, 2009, time stood still for our family. After two courageous battles with cancer, seven years apart, Hazel DeMurl Fenley Pender followed her parents and older family members into God’s arms. For those of us standing by her bedside at home in Arroyo Grande, life would never be the same. Especially for her forever love and husband of sixty years, life lost much of its sparkle.
Life continued for the rest of us, of course — even without her guiding hand and sunny outlook — but the hole in our hearts was a big one. This past five years has flown by…and it has crawled by. It seems like just a little while since I’ve heard her ask, “And how’s my Big Girl today?” Or perhaps it has been decades. When a loved one dies your perspective changes, your sense of time alters. “Has it really been five years?” we say to each other. Or “Has it only been five years?” But we know we have missed her for far longer than that.
What do you do when your mother, the woman you love most in the whole world, dies? You do what you know she wants you to do. You keep living, and you honor and cherish the things she taught you are the most precious gifts of all: your family and your memories. You continue to work hard to be the best mother you can, and try your hardest to come close to being the amazing grandmother she was. You tell stories so that people who never really met her feel as though they have. And you take better care of each other than ever, make more time to be together than you did before.
Because there is never enough time to be with the ones you love. And you can never tell them often enough how much you love them.
I miss you every day, Mom. I hope you’re sitting up there in Heaven reading Trigger’s Horse with Grammy, knowing how badly I want to call you and read you each post before hitting the “Publish” button. I hope you watch your great-granddaughters playing together and realize that you and Aunt Betty are the reasons that they each love their sister the way they do. It is your legacy, yours and Aunt Betty’s, Aunt Enie’s and Grammy Buffington’s, Melody’s and mine.
triggershorse 
I am very sorry for the loss of your mother; I lost mine in 2000, two days after my birthday. It is unrealistic for us to think that we will “get over them;” that just doesn’t work. And, when you think about it, if after we lost someone who is close to us, and if we don’t miss them, “what is life worth?” You are now five years experienced in losing a mother; I am fourteen years “with the same degree!” I would just have my mother back; somebody else can have my award. It is easy for sarcasm to enter into a part of life that God did not to be there. Death is horrible. When we say, “I’m sorry
for your loss,” we are making a statement with eternal ramifications. When we lose a mother, father, brother (I’ve lost all three), a turn of events happens that can not be changed. Yes! I know that we will see them again, in heaven, and it will be much better there than we could ever imagine, but I know that the relationship that has been so quick to leave us will never return. That is what it is a loss. It took me a while to come to that understand, but it is as real, as real can be. So, let us be very protective of our mortal relationships while we have them. Guess what; tears are finding their way out of their respective ducts. I will be praying for you tonight. Always know that you are a blessing to many people.
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I agree wholeheartedly; I would definitely love to have her back…but am comforted by knowing that the overwhelming pain that accompanied her last few days has been healed. Thank you for your kind words. – Fawn
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You are very welcome. May our Lord Jesus richly bless you.
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Please forgive my misspellings; my mind was in its normal “grammar/spelling” mode. But, I’m sure that many other people forget how to spell when they are trying to tell about the deaths of their loved ones. Maybe this reply is better. Blessings to you.
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It is hard to spell-check through tears! – Fawn
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Thank you for being more forgiven than my 7th & 8th grade English teacher; just kidding! She was a great teacher who helped me beyond measure. So, If any-body thinks that I write too many blog posts, and other emails, I’ll have to blame it on “Mrs. Hinyub.” I can still remember how to diagram sentences. Please know that you are a blessing.
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Fawn, on April 4th it will be thirty–thirty!–years since your Aunt Thelma went to do a little heavenly housekeeping, preparing for the arrival of Hazel and a host of others. I read and relish everything you write, but am especially thanking you for this one. Love your heart! …Nita
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Reading “thirty” years gave me goosebumps, Nita. I remember sitting on the front porch after her service, thinking about what a beautiful day it was and remembering that gorgeous bouquet of red roses Aunt Thelma’s brothers gave to honor her. We share a wonderful family. – Fawn
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She was such a beautiful, wonderful lady. I was honored to call her “mom”.
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Thank you, Vickie. She loved your little family, too. – Fawn
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I lost both of my parents 3 days apart…my dad just couldn’t face life without my mom; a wonderful love story! I feel your pain, for your loss, and your joy, that she is free and with people she loves. My mom told me before she died ” Not a day goes by that I don’t miss my mother, even though it has been 38 years.” I can tell you that no truer words were spoken. I miss my mom EVERY DAY and I will for the rest of my life!
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I cannot fathom how my siblings and I would have made it through without Daddy. Thank goodness for your strength in continuing on. What Daddy tells me is “I didn’t tell her often enough how much I loved her.” Tell your loved ones how special they are every day. – Fawn
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Exactly, Fawn! And I try to show them how much they mean to me. There were times it was hard to carry on. There are a myriad of reasons why, suffice it to say I had lost too much at the same time. I did make it through, I believe they pulled me…always good to have two more angels! I am glad you have your Daddy, remember to tell him and show him how much you love him. Have no regrets!
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I am very lucky to have both Daddy and my baby brother just three hours away, so that I can see them at least monthly. And although my sister is all the way across the US, she is as close as the telephone or FaceBook. And “I love you” is a big part of our family vocbulary. – Fawn
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I am very sorry for the grief that you have had to endure. Losing parents is difficult. My died nine years apart; it seems like it was only yesterday. I can still see their faces very clearly. It’s hard.
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I am so, so sorry to hear of your loss. It’s hard knowing that they are around, just beyond reach, unable to speak back. But they’re always there and always guiding us. I wish you all the best x
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Thank you. My challenge is to be the woman she encouraged me to be, without her physically beside me as my guide. – Fawn
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