When I met up with Hazel for the first time, I was already familiar with her determined figure walking through the lounge on her way outside for her morning constitutional. This sounds like a healthy and pleasant activity, but for Hazel, it is like a daily marathon as she struggles valiantly through the building with her walker, slow and frail but strong with purpose, a sure sign of resilience if I ever needed proof.
We sat down together as total strangers and, by the end of our discussions, we were firm friends. I felt honoured to have had the experience of befriending her and being allowed into her private life. This was not just conversations about memories, invaluable as these are; this was delving into the very core, cutting to the quick of her life. There was no small talk between us: we stuck to the notions of resilience, meaning and gratitude.
Having read Viktor Frankl’s famous book, “Man’s Search for Meaning” in the past year, I was very aware that for Hazel, there is a search for meaning every day which is part of her resilience and her impressive determination to move forward despite the challenges of her reduced mobility and dependence on others, especially coming from a person who has lived most of her life being the one depended on.
Faith has always been central to her sense of meaning, as well as helping her sustain and develop her resilience and her gratitude. It has been the central pivot of her life. When we first began to talk, faith was the first word that came up regarding resilience, but it referred to so much more in her life and not just the notion of church. It was refreshing and unusual to hear her say that she inherited her faith from her parents. Many of us follow in the footsteps of our parents with particular beliefs or tendencies, but I was very struck by the notion of inheriting faith.
Hazel’s life revolved mainly around her parents, with whom she always lived in Sillery. She was utterly committed to her relationship with them, enjoying fellowship with them, spending happy social evenings together playing word games and puzzles, watching favourite TV shows together, and going to St. Patrick’s Church on Sundays. They were her friends, and as they got older, she automatically switched to being their caregiver, taking them to medical appointments and looking after all their needs. This was a life she embraced; she did not long to have a different life or to go off to live somewhere else on her own; she consciously chose to stay with them in the house where she had grown up. She stayed in that house for 40 years. Caring for her parents gave her meaning and fulfillment.
There was a moment in her life where things might have moved forward differently when she became close to a protestant priest, but since he was divorced and Hazel felt strongly about Catholic conventions, she did not feel able to pursue the relationship or to consider marrying him. Decisive and resilient in holding on to her own beliefs, she did not regret her decision.
For 35 years, Hazel worked in administration for the Gouvernement du Québec, leading a team that computerized the system of expropriation of lands for the building of the highway systems in Québec. She worked with the analysts in the Transport department and had a great deal of responsibility both towards people and in helping to organize the growing transport infrastructures. She does not talk about it with pride even though I tried to persuade her that she could be proud of such a career. She enjoyed her work but it was not the most important thing in her life. Her values and beliefs always remained number one in importance and pride was not something that came into the equation.
Walking and reading have also been important and enjoyable activities in her life. She enjoyed books about life in the Southern States, including Taylor Caldwell’s novels, and would share and discuss these books with her mother. Her physical mobility, however, has progressively deteriorated and her eyesight has diminished so much that she can no longer read. When her parents died and she moved to the Manoir Archer, she would walk for at least two hours every day, sometimes stopping at the Laurier Shopping Centre to pray in the chapel there. I don’t know if this chapel still exists, but if it does, it is a well-hidden treasure that Hazel discovered. This was at a time when walking was already difficult for her, and she walked everywhere with her walker. The quiet and under-practised sense of humour was expressed when she mentioned that her favourite saint is Saint Jude, the saint of hopeless causes. Were we all so humble, the world might be a better place!
Now that Hazel has reduced vision, she can no longer enjoy the puzzles, newspapers and books that she so enjoyed, but she does not feel bitter about her disabilities, despite the amount of physical and emotional effort required each day to keep going. She claims nothing actually gives her joy; living each day is hard work, but she is grateful at the end of each day that she can still walk. Furthermore, she still finds moments of peace at the weekly mass, which is another kind of gratitude.
“We lose what we value most,” she says, reflecting on her physical challenges and those of past friends, but then she goes on to say, “Everything is a gift if we use it that way,” and we continue to have a wonderful discussion about life’s ironies. We don’t choose to suffer, but facing suffering instead of trying to avoid it has made Hazel who she is today. Prayer has helped her get through tough times and continues to give her courage. Treated as a gift, suffering gives birth to a powerful resilience.
One could say that Hazel has two parallel trinities: her Catholic Trinity and the Trinity of Resilience, Meaning and Gratitude. After we finished our last discussion, I was reminded of John Milton’s sonnet on his blindness, and I thought how appropriate that is for Hazel’s life now. And so I end with the famous quote, “They also serve who only stand and wait.” Hazel’s quiet patience and faith are also a valuable form of service.
Conversations with Hazel took place in August and September 2025.
Article written by Sarah Blair (volunteer)