This is Who My Father Is

As many of you know, my dad, Donald Hazlett passed away late in February. For those of you who weren't able to go to the funeral and for anyone who did not have the privilege of knowing my dad, I wanted to post the my eulogy from his services. And yes, Crystal, I did steal that picture from your blog... thanks!

I. Introduction
How can one summarize a man like my father's entire life into a 10 minute talk? It's not possible. What is possible is to use memories and experiences to open a window allowing something of what he meant to you and others to shine through. I pray you will glimpse the deep feeling of gratitude we have for the life of my father Donald Lewis Hazlett Jr. I have been reading though his journals and looking at old pictures all week. In some ways I think I’ve grown to love and admire my dad more from sharing in the experiences he recorded. One reoccurring theme in all his writing can be understood from this quote from Thomas Jefferson: “The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family”. This is who my father was.

II. Growing up
Donald Lewis Hazlett Jr. was born on June 8, 1954 in Fort Dix, New Jersey to Donald Lewis Hazlett Sr. & Betty Jean Benson. A brother, Ricky, was born a short time later, but lived only 90minutes. His sister Vickie and Brother Steve then followed. As the son of a Marine, his family moved all over the Eastern United States. My dad loved to play baseball and played pitcher and first base for the Tigers in little league. Another thing he loved was golfing with his dad and brother. My dad has always loved his family and has been very close to them. In addition to his brothers or sisters one of his favorite other memories of the family was his dog named Sandy.
At 6 years of age the missionaries came to their family and they became members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His parent’s decision that day has blessed generations of us with the gospel and my father’s service in the church stands as a dedication to that decision. That is who my father was.

One thing dad loved to do was laugh. He watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail with Steve and would laugh about it for days. One time he waited under Vickie’s bed for hours until she was in bed and had turned off the lights. He then slowly reached up and grabbed her leg. I don’t know if Vickie ever got him back for that one, but we sure did. I clearly remember hearing the car pull in and running to the closet to wait until he opened the front door so I could jump out and scare him. When it worked, he would usually get kind of mad at first and then I think the appreciation for the trick would seep in. This too is who my father was.

III. Mission 1973-1975
My dad was called to serve in the Oregon Mission and assigned to his first area in Boise Idaho. He loved it there and learned a lot about service and how to be a good missionary. He served in the towns of Boise, Baker, Salem, Nampa, West Yellowstone, Twin Falls, and Pocatello. I remember teasing him a little when he took us to see several of these places. We teased him because in Baker his apartment had been turned into a garage, in Island Park his apartment was being used as a storage shed and in Boise the Old Penitentiary where he used to go teach the prisoners was a museum.

When they split his mission, they transferred him to the newly created Pocatello, Idaho mission. I remember him saying that he always thought Boise would be a nice place to live, but definitely not Pocatello.

It wasn’t until my mission that it came out that my dad had had a huge role in the leadership of his mission. This too was my dad. He talked about his mission all the time, but to him the “titles” didn’t matter. It wasn’t just that he was humble, he really didn’t care that being and Assistant to the president was pretty cool, he was just happy to serve. This week I read many of the letters he would write to missionaries in his district, zone, or mission. He had a great gift for providing training and motivation at the same time as encouragement and support.

Toward the end of his mission, his Mission President was called to open then Salt Lake City Mission and he took his APs, my dad and his companion, to help him. At one point they were in the SLC airport to pick up their mission president. Elder Loran C. Dunn got off a plane and saw the missionaries name tags reading: “Idaho, Pocatello Mission. He sternly began to question them as to why they were out of their area. I can just see my dad, who always tried be obedient, probably completely shocked and stammering for an explanation, when Elder Boyd K. Packer came to their rescue and explained what was happening. Obedient was who my father was.

IV. BYU
After his mission he got a bachelors degree in training and development at BYU, where he also met my mom Ramona in a family home evening group. My mom said her favorite thing about my dad when they first met was how well he treated his sister and loved his family and how steady he was in the gospel. While living at Y-mount Terrace, they were extremely blessed with a wonderful baby boy: me. I had never read the journal entries dad made after I was born until this week. He was pretty worried about my head being deformed from the forceps, and he thought the anesthesiologist was a riot because he looked like Radar from Mash and spent some of the time chasing a fly around the delivery room with a spray can. My favorite thing he wrote was: “I love this precious little son of mine.” That is who my father was.

V. Work & Family
My dad’s career began in Denver where he worked as a manager at K-mart. After a while it was clear to him and my mom that this was not the job or the place they should be in. So they moved back to Idaho and mom’s brother’s offered him some work on the farm in Arbon Valley. My dad’s fondest memories of this work was that this was where he really grew to know and love Ramona’s brothers and family. After the farm, we moved to apartments on Pocatello Creek Road where a baby girl Crystal joined the family. They they moved to the Indian Hills area where he made friends with many wonderful and extremely caring people. While living on Cheyenne, Kirsten was born leaving my dad and me out numbered. During this time he worked first for Farmers as an Underwriter, and in some training and development capacities. Then when presented with a required transfer to California, my dad chose to take a pay cut to keep his family here and he finished his career as an underwriter for Farm Bureau. He loved the people there and always said he was blessed to have a job. This was who my father was.

VI. My memories of him:
Now that I’ve mentioned the major highlights of my dad’s life, I would like to give a few more of my memories of him. As I thought about these I thought they could easily follow adjectives of who my father was such as: giving, selfless, patient, fun loving, humble, diligent, an example, righteous, and family man.

First, giving: My dad gave of anything and everything he had, but mostly he gave of his time. He came to all of our games, concerts, recitals, solos, etc. Even when he knew nothing about the sport like soccer he would volunteer to coach or be line judge. Even though he hated to be embarrassed in front of crowds, for his daughter he even participated on stage in a dance recital. He got up early to take me to basketball practice and after a long day at work, he would still go to choir concerts at night. When he wasn’t participating, he was always our biggest fan and you could see and feel the pride he had for us whether we won or lost, played or didn’t play.

Next: Selflessness. I remember in Jr. High, I had just convinced my parents that I needed Nike Air basketball shoes if I was ever going to play in the NBA. Whether because they really believed I was professional caliber or not they got me the shoes. Then one day I was in my dad’s closet looking for something when I noticed his old Payless style shoes with various holes and tints of green from mowing the lawn. I thought, why doesn’t he want nice Nike’s like me? It was a few years before I realized that he would wear his shoes with holes in them if it meant he could get his children something nice.

Patient & Fun loving were two more traits I admired about him. Patients could be seen on many occasions on the golf course. My well-meaning Grandpa Hazlett would key in on exactly what was wrong with my golf game and would make sure I knew about it. At times I would get frustrated, because I often already knew what I did wrong and didn’t like having it pointed out. My dad would always find a moment when my grandpa was looking for his own missing ball to tell me how good I was doing and not to worry about what grandpa said. Off the course, he loved to laugh and would laugh so hard at movies that we had to stop them and go back because we couldn’t hear what was going on. Really the only time he liked being away from home was when he was camping or vacationing with his family.

Like I said before, my dad was humble. Humility comes in lots of forms but I think those who are the best at it have no idea. This was dad. He wrote in his journal many times that he wanted to do better, be better, and as he put it “be the best individual possible,” but he also wrote how frustrated he was that he wasn’t there yet and that he continued to make mistakes. I hope he know's that to all of us he was and is the "best individual possible." One experience I had illustrates his humility and love for others more. Before my mission, I was working as a river guide for my uncle Steve in Moab and my dad came down. I remember looking at the two brothers as they sat together in Steve’s house and I thought: “I wonder if dad is ever jealous or envied his little brother. I mean I thought Steve was pretty much a pro at skiing, golfing, and river rafting. He could fix anything and seemed to be good at everything.” I always thought growing up that Steve was the coolest uncle ever. It didn’t take much longer of watching them together to realize that all my dad thought about the matter was that he was extremely proud of him and loved him like he loved everyone: completely. Envy was not in him.

Taught by example:
Mathew 5:16 says “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”
When my son was born, I was worried. I felt and still feel the weight of responsibility to be the father he deserves and I thought, what can I do when I need advice? Dad won’t be there to help me. He won’t be there to answer my questions and show me how he made it through, how he taught his children, or how he took care of his family. Then when we were here for Kirsten’s wedding in January, we took Benson to meet his grandpa. Although dad was having a very hard time consciously interacting at that point, I said “dad, this is your grandson. He’s named after you, your dad, and your mom.” In our own little miracle, he clearly understood and his countenance radiated love and joy. I said “do you want to hold him?” Tears came to me as they do each time I think about it as he said “I do” and gathered him in his weak arms and kissed him on the cheek. It was that moment that I realized, that I didn’t need to worry about not having my father to show me how to raise my son, because he already has.

My father loved his family. The last entry in one of his journals reads: “Tonight we had an enjoyable time. Ramona made a delicious dinner. After dinner we all gathered in the living room and read the Book of Mormon together as a family and had family prayer. I love my family and my home. This is my most favorite place to be.” (10-6-1992)
All of these things were who my father was.

VII. Conclusion
It’s fitting that his favorite song depicts a lifetime of service to our Savior Jesus Christ, because that is what he gave. I would like to dedicate the song I will be playing to my dad just as I did for his dad. A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief.

My dad wrote this for the eulogy he gave for his father: “My dad was perfect, my hero, I am so proud… [He was] high in integrity; an outstanding man; words cannot express my love for him, so I’ll sit down”. I feel the same way about him. But before I do sit down 2 more thoughts in conclusion:

William Wordsworth said: “Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name.”
I hope and at the conclusion of my life on this earth that the things which are said now of my father can be said of me. Like the Apostle Paul, dad can truly say “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.” (2nd Timothy 7:4) This is who my father IS. I look forward to the day I can see him again and share in the joy of our eternal families. I will be forever grateful for the life of my dad. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.