What Was Patsy's Philosophy About Work?

It’s Labor Day 2023, and today’s topic is well-suited to the occasion. Patsy was an old-fashioned woman (I know that’s a shocker, but true). Her “philosophy” on work was simple - she believed in it like she believed the gospel is true, America is the land of the free, and motherhood is desirable above everything else. You could even throw in believing in the Hallmark Channel for good measure. 

Hard work was second nature to her. We have the pictures to prove her work ethic. Perhaps the most iconic was the one of her at my side up on the roof as we were nailing down the tar paper to dry it in when she was seven months pregnant. Who does that? Well, Patsy did that. She is also seen in other pics with a shovel in her hands digging in the ground between the power box across the driveway to the electrical panel mounted on the outside of the house. She was also handy with a paintbrush whenever we stained the outside of the cabin. Physical labor was not the least bit intimidating to her. She helped to plant the now-towering pine trees you can see on the property. She even helped me to nail the siding on the inside walls, and yes, those nails were all driven by a hammer one nail at a time (no nail guns in those days). She even cut the siding lengths with the circular saw as I measured and called out the numbers to her. She helped me pull wire through the walls before we were blessed with Tanner Venema. I was reminded as I was writing this chapter that she even chipped in her labor with all our lumberjack activities in the days when we cut our own firewood from the surrounding forest. She could split and cut alongside the best of us. The boys commented, “The only reason we did that was because you were teaching us how to work.” Right! And not only did she work alongside us, she always provided the delicious food for lunch and dinner. We really were engaged in building “the little house on the prairie” in those days, and we all loved it. We made quite a team as we worked together side by side.

That’s working for nothing in return, like she did in her work as a homemaker that involved cooking, making beds, endless piles of laundry, folding clothes into “piles” that were always contested, vacuuming and scrubbing the floors, cleaning toilets, taking out the trash, and sewing all manner of clothing and quilts for her children, grandchildren and other loved ones. She said she inherited her seamstress skills from Grandma Brazier, and her mother bought her the finest Bernina sewing machine back in the day, but she improved upon that talent through her diligence and hard work.

She worked tirelessly at all those tasks and loved it all because it was toiling for those she loved. She expected nothing in return for her labor. It was all given out of the abundance of her soul. I think it could be summarized by one simple sentence - she had the courage to work at the things she could change, and the patience to wait upon the things she could not change. In it all she coupled her hard work with prayer on behalf of everyone. Now that the burdens of mortality have been lifted, you can be assured she is working beyond the veil to bless us all spiritually with whatever gifts she is able to bestow.

There was a time in our marriage when she did go to work for money.
Diane and Jack Gardiner were expanding the operations of their 7-Eleven in Kamas to include a sandwich shop that opened for the lunchtime crowd. I was toiling away at trying to get Legacy Now launched, but it seemed to drag on and on without resolution. So at the invitation of Diane, Patsy went to work building sandwiches one at a time for the patrons who frequented their shop. Remember, this was long before the days of Subway and Jimmy Johns. They baked their own rolls and provided all manner of fixings for their custom sandwiches, and together they were a big hit in rural Kamas, Utah. Today, the Silver Summit Inn occupies that space in the rebuilt 7-Eleven store, but the pioneers in sandwich making were Diane and Patsy. She didn’t make much money in that enterprise, but she welcomed the challenge and they made a success at it. I would work at my desk at home, then often drive down at lunchtime to partake of their offerings. I loved her for her effort and her willingness to contribute to our family income while we were living off our savings.

It seemed Patsy never tired of working hard. In more recent years she spent increasing time with Grandma Julie as her principal caregiver. She would often drive down to the Wellington in Salt Lake City early in the morning, and it was not unusual for her to call me when she was running late in getting out of there to tell me where the dinner was in the refrigerator and give me instructions on how to heat it up and eat without her. It was another form of work, surely, but it could only be described as hard work, again given out of love for Julie and her father Lester.

St. Paul Minnesota Temple

It could be argued, and it would be hard to dispute, that she died working hard right to the end of her life. We were working hard for our deceased ancestors in the temples within days of her death. We had gone back to be with Andrew and Jessica and their children to celebrate Andrew’s completion of his five-year residency at the Mayo Clinic. We attended temples on the way out to see them, and we went to six more temples in six states in six days on our way home. She never tired of working for the salvation of the dead. In fact, she loved doing that work in the temples. We had so much fun together on that trip that it was unthinkable she was in the homestretch of her mortal journey. And it could be said that this work in the temples was anything BUT work - it was joy unsullied, and it was her final gift to me and her kindred dead.

We got news that Julie was failing after learning she had attended Dean Collette’s funeral (he was her colleague at Highland High School for many years) while we were away. We cut our trip short by a day, and hastened back home to find Julie was in a downward spiral from which there would be no return. Patsy stayed by Julie’s bedside through those remaining days and even spoke at her funeral with sister Nancy at her side. There seemed to be nothing to indicate that Patsy would soon follow Julie down to the grave. And yet, there it was right before us - two freshly dug graves within a month of each other, side by side in the Woodland Cemetery, a testament to the truth that mortal life has an expiration date for all of us, and we never know when our time might come. That said, our sorrow today is swept up in the anticipation of a joyful reunion someday in the spirit world. 

So, what was her philosophy about work? She embraced it, she thrived on it, and she taught us all by example what it looks like to work either for pay or for no pay. “Work we must,” wrote Hugh Nibley years ago, “but the lunch is free.” By that phrase Brother Nibley posited that work is a necessity of mortality, but our gracious and loving Heavenly Father provides a “free lunch” for all His children in the form of his love and grace for all of us regardless of our failings, sins and shortcomings when we do the best we can with what gifts we have received. 

No one embodied doing the best with what she had been given more than Patricia Brazier Hewlett Goates. She would say to all of us on this Labor Day, 2023, from her vantage point:

Improve the shining moments;

Don’t let them pass you by.
Work while the sun is radiant;
Work, for the night draws nigh.
We cannot bid the sunbeams
To lengthen out their stay,
Nor can we ask the shadow
To ever stay away. (Hymns, No. 226).

Ministering of Angels

In our family recently, we witnessed the death of my wife, the mother of our children and grandchildren. I explained to all of her posterity when I was asked if she is now a ministering angel in these words:

"And whoso ^areceiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go ^bbefore your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my ^cSpirit shall be in your hearts, and mine ^dangels round about you, to bear you up." (D&C 84:88).

The short answer is "yes," your mother (and grandmother) is one of those angels the Lord refers to here. She is always going to be with you from this day forward, even though you may not always see her or feel her as much as you would like. Be assured that she is aware of you, she sees you, and she knows your hearts perfectly. She will be a gift to you from a loving Heavenly Father. The spirits of our deceased ancestors are deeply concerned about us and they love us more than you can imagine. When you pray to your Father in Heaven for guidance or comfort or a special need you may have, I give you my witness that those answers will come. Often they are referred to as the "whisperings" of the Spirit, or "the still, small voice," describing the Holy Ghost. But it has been my experience that the answers may also come quietly from our beloved family members who have preceded us in death and now reside in the world of spirits, as Mom (and Grandma) now does. She may come quietly and even uninvited when you least expect her to show up in a dream. She will settle in your heart with soft, loving and even imperceptible nudges of inspiration about what you should do next. She may just whisper peace to your troubled or anxious heart, but never doubt her reality in your lives. She will always be found "round about you" even when you don't even know it or feel it. I know that is true.

Section 13 of The Doctrine and Covenants consists of the words John the Baptist spoke, as he conferred the Aaronic Priesthood upon Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery: “Upon you my fellow servants, in the name of Messiah I confer the Priesthood of Aaron, which holds the keys of the ministering of angels. . .”

Those who have the Aaronic Priesthood conferred upon them, we are frequently taught in the Church, thereby have right to the ministering of angels. The implication is those who do not hold this priesthood have no right to the ministering of angels. We have misunderstood, and obtaining a proper knowledge of these things is absolutely fundamental to the establishment of the latter-day Zion if we will ever be enabled to come into the presence of an “innumerable company of angels.” (See TPJS, 325).

John said the Aaronic Priesthood holds the key of the ministering of angels. However, John did not say what that key was. What is the key of the ministering of angels?

The Prophet Mormon revealed this first Aaronic Priesthood key:

. . . it is by faith that angels appear and minister unto men. . . (Moroni 7:37).

The key is faith, specifically faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. This is the key by which angels appear and minister unto men and women. It is the first spiritual key of power. Like “the Hebrew Church [we must come] to an innumerable company of angels, unto God the Father of all, and to Jesus Christ the Mediator of the new covenant.” (TPJS, 325).

Upon reflection, this makes perfect sense. Acting in his editorial role in the compilation of the records comprising The Book of Mormon, Moroni reflected on the faith of his forefathers:

I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.
For it was by faith that Christ showed himself unto our fathers. . .
Wherefore, ye may also have hope, and be partakers of the gift, if ye will but have faith. . .
It was by faith that they of old were called after the holy order of God. . .
By faith was the law of Moses given. But in the gift of his Son hath God prepared a more excellent way; and it is by faith that it hath been fulfilled.
For if there be no faith among the children of men God can do no miracle among them; wherefore, he showed not himself until after their faith.
Behold, it was the faith of Alma and Amulek that caused the prison to tumble to the earth.
Behold, it was the faith of Nephi and Lehi that wrought the change upon the Lamanites, that they were baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost.
Behold, it was the faith of Ammon and his brethren which wrought so great a miracle among the Lamanites.
Yea, and even all they who wrought miracles wrought them by faith, even those who were before Christ and also those who were after.
And it was by faith that the three disciples obtained a promise that they should not taste of death; and they obtained not the promise until after their faith.
And neither at any time hath any wrought miracles until after their faith; wherefore they first believed in the Son of God.
And there were many whose faith was so exceedingly strong, even before Christ came, who could not be kept from within the veil, but truly saw with their eyes the things which they had beheld with an eye of faith, and they were glad. . . (Ether 12:6-22).

All the mighty works recorded in holy writ have come by faith without exception. Without faith nothing happens. Of course it is the first key of power! No other possibility qualifies. From the “Lectures on Faith” in Joseph’s School of the Prophets, we learn:

Faith, then, is the first great governing principle which has power, dominion and authority over all things; by it they exist, by it they are upheld, by it they are changed, or by it they remain, agreeable to the will of God. Without it there is no power, and without power there could be no creation, nor existence! (Lectures On Faith, 1:24).
[Faith] is the principle of power in the Deity as well as in man. . . and without it there is no power, and without power there could be no creation nor existence! (Lectures on Faith, Questions & Answers, Lecture First; also see Hebrews 11:3).

We may be given authority to act in positions in the Church, but without faith in the Lord Jesus Christ we really have no power in the priesthood because without faith we can do nothing. (D&C 8:10). 

Why So Quiet?

I sat alone in sacrament meeting today. My dear companion who sat by my side for 54 years had departed this life. When I returned home, the deafening silence greeted me as I entered our home. Only hours before the home had been filled with laughter, happiness and lively grandchildren who were loving the joy of being together. And now it was as silent as the Garden Tomb.

After the funeral yesterday, we enjoyed a meal together provided by the generous Relief Society sisters of our ward. Then that was followed by a rousing dance party out on the basketball court. There was happiness and there was nothing but frivolity. I was tired, but they were not.

And then today, it was silent and I was alone with my thoughts.

Oh, my thoughts! How many, how varied, how consistent and how tranquil. I re-watched her funeral online at the Larkin Mortuary website. I shed a few more tears as I listened to our wonderful children share their talents with the audience. 

I told them I wanted two things out of the funeral - to edify and inspire the congregation, and to show them her good example. Both goals of mine were met, I believe.

I have had so many tell me her funeral was one of the finest they have ever attended. Lance Larkin, my cousin, reminded me of what Elder LeGrand Richards once told him about funerals. He said he had been to many funerals during his long life, and that there were good ones and there were bad ones. The good ones, he said, were about good people, and the bad ones, well, you can finish the sentence. Lance told me, "This was a good woman." I echo his sentiment.

I loved hearing her teachings to her children recounted and now embodied in their lives. She taught them how to pray, how to love their Savior, how to serve others without reservation and how to live their lives faithfully here in mortality. 

And then, far too soon for all of us, she took her leave. She went into another room, as she often did when we had said our prayers and I climbed into bed and fell asleep. She, on the other hand, was up again and in another part of the house preparing something good to eat for her loved ones or someone in our ward who was in need of her loving outreach. I would awaken a few hours later, and find my bed empty while she toiled in preparation. Not unlike what I feel now and realize she isn't coming back to bed.

That's what her death represents for me. She has merely gone ahead into another room to make preparations for me and all our posterity. That she will do it with grace, with lovingkindness, and with patience I have no doubts. It may not involve vacuuming the carpet or making good food to eat, but it will involve spiritual sustenance for which each of us craves.

I told the grandchildren before we closed the lid on her casket that she now has superpowers - she can "fly." My meaning is that she will fly quickly to their sides in times of trouble, or times of need, or times of turbulence, or times even of joy. 

I told them to listen carefully for her gentle invitations to do better, to reach a little higher, try a little harder, persist in faith a little longer. In those moments she will meet them and give them the needed encouragement and spiritual strength which she can dispense from a deep treasury of her own making.

She loves the Lord Jesus Christ. Her whole life was anchored in Him. She became much like Him in all His attributes.

I read these words this afternoon, as I opened my copy of The Teachings of Harold B. Lee. It was as if I could hear his voice speaking directly to me:

"Don't be afraid of the testing and trials of life. Sometimes when you are going through the most severe tests, you will be nearer to God than you have any idea, for like the experience of the Master Himself in the temptations on the mount, in the Garden of Gethsemane, and on the cross at Calvary, the scriptures record, 'And, behold, angels came and ministered unto him' (Matthew 4:11). Sometimes that may happen to you in the midst of your trials." (THBL, p. 192).

She has gone into another room, not far away, and left me to ponder, "Why so quiet?" And the answer seems to suggest, "So that you may hear her when she comes to minister to you."

And Then She Was Gone. . .

I write today to inform the world of the passing of my spouse and eternal companion, Patsy. Her passing came upon us all suddenly and without much warning. Those who have heard about it have asked, "Was she sick?" The answer is simple: not until in the last twenty-four hours when sepsis filled her body.

I met Patsy Hewlett when she was a student at East High School, one year younger than me. Until she drew her final peaceful breath on Earth, she loved me and her whole family completely, absolutely and wholeheartedly without any reservations. She was an emissary of Jesus Christ, a true angel on Earth. Easily the most spiritual woman I have ever known, she was on intimate terms with the Almighty.

One night recently, we settled down in front of the TV to watch a movie together over dinner. I asked her to say the blessing on the food while I paused the movie. There is a counter that tracks the minutes between the pause button and the play button. When we looked up again, the timer had exceeded 15 minutes. And that was a prayer over food, but so much more! Her individual prayer roll grew longer with each passing month. I used to tease her that she left out the tribe of Reuben. Oh, what prayers we have shared together over the years! Her final act on Earth, I believe, was to die, return to the spirit world and begin answering her own prayers on behalf of all for whom she prayed. Don't be surprised if you discover a new guardian angel who is pleading your cause before the Throne of Divine Grace. Without even knowing it, you may have been on her mind and in her heart. 💗💗 She loved, loved, loved hearts.

How I love this dear companion! Our first date by all accounts should have been recorded as a complete disaster. They ran out of food before we got there, the dance band had taken a break just before we arrived, and there was nothing to do but take up a spot on the side of the dance floor and talk. And oh, did we talk!

Our conversation expanded into the early morning hours on our way back home. It was soul-searching, deeply spiritual, and wide-ranging. I was amazed at the depth of her soul, the strength of her testimony, and the power that spilled forth from her all night long. When quizzed by my mother the next morning, she asked, "What was Patsy wearing?" I stammered out a response, "I think it was a yellow gown." I quickly assured her my memory wasn't bad, but that we were engrossed in a spirit to spirit deep connection I had never encountered. 

One of our younger sons said to me yesterday that he has been lamenting his children would not know or be able to remember Grandma Patsy. I said to him, "Don't worry, I will write the exhaustive seven-volume series about her and I won't leave a single stone unturned." I pray I may live long enough to complete that joyous work for our posterity.

As an example of her thoughtfulness, I took her to the emergency room in the Park City Hospital only last week when she was complaining of intense chest pain. I thought she may be having a heart attack, but it was only pericarditis, an inflammation of her heart lining, and I took home a regimen of anti-inflammatory medicine to treat it. Behind us in line came a middle-aged mother accompanied by her daughter. The mother was crying out in agonizing pain, gently holding her arm which we later discovered had been broken. Without even thinking, Patsy instructed me to let her go first in line ahead of us. And that's what happened. She always thought about someone else ahead of herself. It was instinctive with her, a reflexive act of charity.

We had a family gathering this last Sunday afternoon in our home. I had received permission from our bishop to offer her the sacrament after which we shared testimonies with each other. She was sedated for pain in her hospice bed, but even with her eyes closed, she said "Amen" when each one concluded, and she mouthed the words of the hymns we sang. It was a spiritual, peaceful outpouring of love for the Savior, the gospel and for each other. She loved every minute.

Then later that night she sat up, spoke with her beloved son, Andrew, who is a highly skilled surgeon. He told her he was concerned about her lungs. She said, "Yes, so am I." He asked her if she would like to return to the hospital for further testing to see if he could make her stronger. She said she would, and we packed her as gently as we could into the car.

That was the beginning of the end. They discovered three infectious sites in her body, including pneumonia in her lungs, none of which had been evident in her most recent blood workups. 

"Dad," whispered daughter Melanie early the next morning, "She's gone."

And with that simple notification she had left quickly, quietly and without disturbing anyone or being a burden to anyone - it was on her own terms and her own way.

People ask me how I'm holding up. The answer is also simple - I am being borne up as on the wings of angels all around me. They are my family, friends, and nearly everyone who has heard about her passing. And most of all, I am being sustained by my dearest Patsy who continues to minister to my needs in a higher and holier place.

 

Julianna Hayes Hewlett - Home at Last

This week we said our final farewells to our adopted Mother and Grandmother, Julianna Hayes Hewlett. She departed this life at age 82, after a forty-year separation from her eternal companion, Patsy's father Lester F. Hewlett, Jr. We came to love her as our own. I am publishing her first-person life sketch here so that many of her beloved students and their families will have the funeral information. Feel free to share the link with everyone who may have interest.

Viewing: Larkin Mortuary (260 E. So. Temple St., Salt Lake), Sunday July 9th 6-8 p.m.

Funeral: Salt Lake 11th Ward (951 E. 100 So., Salt Lake), Monday, July 10th, viewing 10-11:30 a.m., followed by the funeral services at noon.

Interment: Woodland Cemetery, Woodland, Utah 84036

Life Sketch of Julianna Hayes Hewlett

I was born January 21, 1941, in Montpelier, Idaho, the only daughter of William Earl and Verona Schmid Hayes. I had three brothers, Deon (who died at eighteen months), William Dorain Hayes, and Elwyn “Chip” Hayes. Only Chip remains behind in our little family with my passing, and how I have adored him and his wife Sandy! If Chip ever missed a day calling me in the last forty years, I do not remember it.

We moved many places in Idaho and Wyoming following my father’s Union Pacific Railroad occupation. At age four, my mother found me “practicing the piano,” using the arm of the sofa as my keyboard, as we had no such instrument. At that point my parents felt I should be taking lessons as soon as there was money to rent a piano. Fortunately, the Bancroft chapel was being remodeled, and Father requested that our home be used as a place to store the ward piano. Thus began my lessons, and a continuing lifetime interest in music.

I graduated with honors from BYU and began teaching music at Hillside Junior High School in Salt Lake City. My first class in public school teaching was a Boys’ Choir of 103 voices from the 7^th, 8^th and 9^th grades. It proved to be a year of MY education learning how to deal with teenaged mentality.

In 1968, while recuperating in Idaho from a spinal fusion I received a call from President Florence Jacobsen to serve on the General Board of the MIA. Traveling and speaking in many regional conferences, writing lessons and manuals for the MIA, and beginning work of the new LDS hymn book, were highlights in that phase of my Church activity. I also conducted a regional young special interest choir in the Tabernacle for a regional conference.

In 1969, I took a Sabbatical Leave and traveled to Germany with the University of Oregon, where I lived with a German family, toured the famous music schools of Europe, and later received a master’s degree in international music and art education.

I transferred to Highland High School in 1975, teaching choirs and beginning a Humanities class, studying the arts, philosophy and history. I began taking summer tours to Europe to study the wealth of art, music and literature in the world’s greatest museums.

I was reluctantly and unexpectedly lined up on a blind date in 1977, with Lester F. Hewlett, Jr. It was an amazing spiritual recognition, and I cancelled my summer tour to Europe to be sealed in the Salt Lake Temple on July 6, 1977. My father said in April of that year I would be married before summer’s end. His prediction came true. It was truly a match made in heaven.

Les had been the mission president in the Australia South Mission and had previously served on the Young Men’s General Board and on the Church Athletic Committee. Having been one of the first missionaries to open Alaska to missionary work, Les thus began a lifelong love of missionary work. After returning from Australia, he continued volunteering on Temple Square as a tour guide, where his love of the gospel and commitment to missionary work focused his continuing service.

We moved to the Graystone Condominiums in 1978, where Les was the teacher of the high priest group, and I taught the Relief Society cultural refinement lessons. How I loved bringing the joy of music, art and literature to the sisters in the Grant 4^th Ward (later became the Forestview Ward). Traveling with Elder LeGrand Richards for the dedication of the Orson Hyde Memorial was truly one of the highlights of our six years together. At the insistence of Elder Richards, I led the group in “Master the Tempest is Raging” as we crossed the Sea of Galilee and afterward sat in a testimony meeting on the shore. I realized once again the truthfulness of the gospel, and better understood the love Les and I shared in Church service.

Les and I belonged to the Dinnerset Group, and on December 9, 1983, Les and I were the chairpersons of the annual Christmas party at the Lion House. Associating, as the Hewlett family had done for many years with many of the members of the Quorum of the Twelve, we sat with Elder and Sister Neal A. Maxwell singing Christmas carols. I conducted the music in my new red shoes that Les had just bought me.

The next morning, I awakened to find that Les had slipped to the other side of the veil while he slept. The shock was multiplied by the fact he had not been ill. As Elder Maxwell stated at his funeral, “He was blessed not to have tasted death. He was a guileless man.” He loved and gave many blessings to the widows in our ward whom he served as their home teacher.

The years since his passing have found me continuing to teach at Highland, conducting tours occasionally to Europe with students, serving as gospel doctrine teacher, ward music chairman, ward chorister, and teaching Relief Society cultural refinement lessons.

One of the highlights of my music and Church service was in October 1990, when I was invited to conduct a Young Women’s Choir for the afternoon session of General Conference in the Tabernacle. I led 400 young women from the Bountiful and Val Verde Regions, united in beautiful voice and spirit to praise the Lord. It was more memorable by having chosen the hymn, “We Ever Pray for Thee,” and then finding President Benson had been taken to the hospital that weekend. The choice of that hymn had been made by me in July, well before President Benson became acutely ill.

In 1991, a grandson, Ben Pahnke, died of leukemia. Our family was comforted in knowing Les was there to welcome eight-year-old Ben to his heavenly home. Again, in 1993, our seven-week-old grand-daughter Adrienne Goates, was taken home, and Les was seen at her funeral by members of his extended family. It is an incredible comfort knowing the veil is thin and eternal love is strong.

As the years have brought Les’ four children and their families much closer together, I have enjoyed the plethora of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I have loved and been loved as I never could have imagined in my younger single years. All the children, Nancy Pahnke, Patsy Goates, John Hewlett and Ernie Hewlett, have homes at the Ranch above Woodland, where Les and I spent our summers and where the spirit of FAMILY is so intense and loving.

My calling to the Salt Lake Temple as an ordinance worker has been the highlight of my retirement years.

These last years have been filled with physical challenges, but I have used faith, prayers and priesthood blessings to endure to the end. “When upon life’s billows we are tempest tossed, when we are discouraged thinking, all is lost, count your many blessings, name them one by one, and it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”

That ends Julie’s obituary in her first-person narrative, but as her adopted Hewlett family we would update the record to state she won a place in all our hearts. She might easily be the most fiercely independent, tenacious and strong-willed woman any of us will ever encounter. However, as she lived her life to its conclusion in the early morning hours of June 29, 2023, we are constrained to conclude in her 82 years of living she filled the full measure of her creation, and she finally and gleefully entered the eternal embrace of her beloved Les after a forty-year absence.