Please click “comments” above if you have a eulogy, memory, anecdote, poem etc or anything you would like to post here. If we have time we may be able to read some out at the cremation. Or if you are there, you could possibly read it out yourself.
Great thoughts Carola-Thankyou
We have such fond memories of our visits to Ashford and Dover to see Hazel and all the family. Our…
I first met Hazel when Keith brought her to a local restaurant where I was playing jazz. It was wonderful…
This was the eulogy I gave at the Crematorium Beloved Family and friends, We are here to celebrate a life…
On the day that my Auntie Hazel is laid to rest I am fondly remembering her as a big part…
Hazel was my Nana (Mickey McKerrow) sister. My mums Aunt. What a wonderful, beautiful, polite, sweet lady. We lived apart,…
Hazel was my Auntie. My Dad (Peter Frost) is her younger brother. I have many memories of going to Holly…
We moved into our home in Kennington in 1987 after a long journey with 2 young children, my mother -in-law…
There are so many nice and funny incidents with Hazel, with Jack and with Min that it is difficult to…
Although I have not seen her for several decades, I have happy memories of Hazel. I always found her a…
As Keith’s long term partner, I have had the honour and privilege of having Hazel in my life for the…
This is a beautiful poem by Henry Scott-Holland. It appeared in the order of service for my father’s funeral, and…
12 replies on “Online Book of Remembrance”
We have such fond memories of our visits to Ashford and Dover to see Hazel and all the family. Our love to you all.
I first met Hazel when Keith brought her to a local restaurant where I was playing jazz. It was wonderful to meet her. She came several times to hear te music and have a meal. Often, when Keith came to meet her in Dover we all got together in the apartment she shared with Min. She was an amazing person. I will miss her.
This was the eulogy I gave at the Crematorium
Beloved Family and friends,
We are here to celebrate a life well-lived, a life that touched many, a life that embodied love, laughter, and unlimited kindness.
She was the embodiment of love in its purest form. Even in the last weeks of her life, when faced with overwhelming challenges, her spirit remained untamed, her love undiminished. I had the blessing of spending much of those final weeks by her bedside, and even though she was grappling with rapidly declining health, she was radiant with gratitude, love, and an infectious joy.
She was never a particularly funny person. I don’t think I remember her telling any jokes right up to a few weeks ago, when she suddenly transformed into an amazing comic. She said things like: “I have a numb bum. That rhymes. I must be a poet.” And when presented with sausages for lunch in hospital she cheekily shouted out “I don’t want sausages, bring me champagne”. When finding out she was dehydrated she said “I am dehydrated because Min does not give me enough beer”. Then she told me she was hoarding the bed pans under her sheet, and was going to sell them. I thought I would humour her, so I said “OK then”, then she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye and said “Do you believe me” and laughed.
She asked me how I felt visiting her. Happy? Sad? Entertained? I gave her the honest answer that I felt entertained. I just felt drawn to be with her in those final weeks.
Another time she was starting to moan about something, then stopped herself, and muttered “Only positive thoughts”.
Her biggest concern, was for us. When she found out she was going to die she instructed me very slowly and deliberately “If I die, do not cry,”. She said that several times. She also told me she wanted her funeral to be a happy affair, with people celebrating her life. She did not want us to be sad. She wanted us to remember her for her love, her laughter, and the countless good times.
It is not always easy though. As Kahlil Gibran put it “But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.”
What the past few weeks have offered us is a unique window into the depths of my mother’s soul — the deep reservoirs of love, peace, and letting go. Her declining health and the confusion it brought only served to highlight the core of who she truly was. She would call over nurses, not for assistance, but to express her heartfelt gratitude. She also invited one of the doctors to her 100th birthday party she was planning in a posh hotel.
The medical teams at both the hospital and the hospice were amazing. They saw the remarkable woman we knew and loved, treating her with kindness, gentleness, and humour that she so appreciated. When one of the nurses found out that my mother used to be a nurse, she started to call my mum “Matron”, as their private joke together.
It was the perfect way for her to die. Surrounded by family, and dying in her sleep with Min at her side.
These last few weeks have been an explosion of energy and emotion. I have reconnected with long lost friends and family. Some of whom I have not seen for over 50 years.
One of my Facebook friends reminded me before she died that this was such a precious time, as I could remind her of all the amazing things that she has done for me. I tried to do that. But there just too many. I could barely scratch the surface. And she then started telling me all the things that I had done for her.
It’s been said that “Grief is unexpressed love.” I have found that to be very true. I went all out for trying my best to express my love to her in her final weeks, and I felt it coming back from her into an expanding spiral. Another saying I was working with is from the Native American tradition which is “Today is a good day to die as all things in my life are complete”. I changed this around to “Today is a good day for my Mother to die as all things in her life are complete”.
Thank you Mother, for everything. You are, in my opinion, the best Mother in the world, and I still feel your presence shining strongly in my heart. Rest in peace.
On the day that my Auntie Hazel is laid to rest I am fondly remembering her as a big part of my life while growing up. We would meet up for family occasions and Hazel and Jack would regularly visit us at Peckham Rye when having dental treatment from her brother, Peter Frost (my dad). The Christmas visits to Holly Trees were memorable because I would try and be brave and stroke the poodles but much preferred looking at the guinea pigs (less scary). When I was pregnant with my first child, Hazel was always on the other end of the phone for reassurance thanks to her midwifery skills. Hazel was all about her family and that is something I will always admire. Memories of Hazel, her values and love are a real lasting legacy which she leaves for us all. Xxx
Hazel was my Nana (Mickey McKerrow) sister. My mums Aunt.
What a wonderful, beautiful, polite, sweet lady. We lived apart, but we kept in touch often.
Her last message to me was -‘in life, you have to be happy otherwise you will be consumed by grief’ she told me she enjoyed every, minute of her life and that she has been blessed with Min looking after her. She told me she didn’t bother with cream, just losts of perfume – as I asked her what her secret was.
A truly inspirational soul.
Hazel was my Auntie. My Dad (Peter Frost) is her younger brother. I have many memories of going to Holly Trees , usually around Christmas, but for other big family events including Hazel and Jacks wedding anniversary, and also to say goodbye to my Grandad Leslie Frost (who Hazel nursed and he died at Holly Trees.) I can also remember being petrified of the poodles, who used to bark at me. Thanet and Argos.
Since I was a small boy I can always remember Hazel walking around with a crutch or her famous brick contraption that helped her climb stairs, and also I think she used it to help drive her Jaguar. She always had an interest in art and came to most of my exhibitions. This really meant a lot to me, it was lovely to get that support. I feel like I had a special bond with auntie Hazel and was really pleased I got to have a video call with her a few weeks before she died, and me, my Dad and siblings saw her a few hours before she died at Pilgrims hospice. She looked very peaceful. I got to hold her hand and tell her that I loved her, which was very comforting for me. She will definitely be remembered in our household by me Mandy Isaac and Allie xx
We moved into our home in Kennington in 1987 after a long journey with 2 young children, my mother -in-law (who had come to help) and 2 goldfishes in tow. It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door – Jack introduced himself and Hazel on her behalf. They welcomed us to our new home and invited us all to lunch. It was an unbelievably kind gesture which has stuck in my memory.
The children knew them as Auntie Hazel and Uncle Jack. Both were always ready to offer advice and help to us as parental figures. Hazel even saved one Christmas for us! One Christmas Eve my freezer full of Christmas food broke down. Panicking, I phoned Hazel. She offered the use of her chest freezer in the garage. The boys and their friends formed a chain back and forth carting everything across the road. They thought it great fun. For me it was sheer relief. Thank you, Hazel!
Hazel was a great source of local information too e.g. handymen. She gave us the name of a retired white goods repair man who then fixed the freezer for a minimal fee and it is still going in our garage!
Conversations with her were always interesting and informative; her knowledge of local history and her tales about her personal experiences during World War 2 really captured our imagination, especially for my younger son who at the time was doing a project. She was also able to direct us for further help from other local people.
Despite her disability she had a real zest for life and a great sense of humour. She was interested in so many things, had been an active campaigner on local affairs and cared deeply about wildlife, turning her garden into a wonderful habitat. She even referred to her slugs as her pets. We knew our pet hamsters and goldfishes would have a lovely stay and be spoilt across the road whenever we went on holiday!
Although she hadn’t seen our boys for some time, she always maintained an interest in them and followed their journeys in life.
Many years ago, when we visited Hazel and Jack in Dover, she mentioned they were having to order a Christmas cake. It was time for me to repay them. From then on, they received a home-made cake right up until Christmas 2022.
Hazel, you were an extraordinary, grand old lady and I shall miss you and making your cake.
There are so many nice and funny incidents with Hazel, with Jack and with Min that it is difficult to choose which to describe here. If I remember correctly, my late husband Heinz-Theo Nathan went on a school exchange from Bad Münstereifel to a school in Ashford/Kennington in 1973 and ended up with the Griggs family. Keith Griggs also came to Weilerswist, where the Nathans lived at the time. Since then, the Griggs family has had a connection with the Nathan family, which has resulted in many visits by Hazel, Jack, Min and Hazel’s friend Eileen to Bonn, Berlin and Duisburg, and return visits by the Nathan and Uebe families.
All the visits were special, but we remember the following events in particular: When Hazel and Eileen visited Bonn in 1986, we really wanted to show them the Drachenfels mountain near Bonn. We took the cogwheel railway to the top and wanted to walk back – and underestimated the steep path: we held the wheelchair with four hands so that Hazel would not have an accident. She only said afterwards – in her inimitable way – that she had enjoyed the adventure.
When Heinz-Theo and I went to Kenningten to explore the English south coast on our bikes, we had to break off the tour: It had rained on St. Swithin’s Day, and rained continuously the days after. We arrived back in Kennington on a Sunday without giving any notice. Hazel didn’t comment much on this; food was ordered and everyone was happy.
Hazel and Jack also visited Alice and I in Berlin in 2003. We had previously been to a performance at the Globe Theatre in London and then flew to Berlin with both of them. They stayed in Alice’s flat at the time and we stayed in Alice’s little house in the allotment. From Berlin we went on many tours, for example to Potsdam, Dresden and Frankfurt on the Oder. From Frankfurt we were able to cross a bridge to Słubice in Poland; we pushed Hazel there in a wheelchair. When we got over there, we took a taxi to the so-called Polish Market, which Hazel and Jack wanted to visit.
Hazel’s foldable wheelchair went in the boot; when we got out, we forgot to take the foot parts with us; Polish people were kind enough to follow the taxi and stop it: What luck!
And a phrase of Hazel’s has entered our vernacular: Darling, have you seen a comb today? That’s what she said to Jack when his hair was a bit tangled on his head.
We both, Alice and Carola, think of Hazel often these days, of you, the Griggs family and of Min. We will light a candle for her at her funeral and remember the many beautiful encounters that connect us and you.
Great thoughts Carola-Thankyou
Although I have not seen her for several decades, I have happy memories of Hazel. I always found her a very caring, considerate and kind person, unfailingly charming and hospitable. I remember well many weekends playing ‘Nav War’, ‘Diplomacy’, etc., with Geoffrey and other school friends at their home in Kennington. I was always made welcome and felt relaxed and at home.
I also have vivid memories of chats I had with her, particularly when she came to Charing to paint in our garden. I was even stimulated to try my hand at oil painting (but not successfully!). Hazel always came across as civilised, somebody who talked to young people in an adult sort of way and seemed genuinely interested in what they thought and said. Her comments were positive and encouraging.
I also remember that my late parents were fond of her and enjoyed her company. They spent many happy hours together and with Jack, too, of course.
I am sure that she will have left very positive marks on many people – family and friends – and will live in happy memory for a long time. May she now rest in peace.
As Keith’s long term partner, I have had the honour and privilege of having Hazel in my life for the last 30 years.
We shared so many special memories, from family occasions to wonderful outings and holidays.
Including Boat trips in Bruge, seeing lord of the dance in Hyde park, and our annual trips to Center Parcs to name but a few.
Hazel loved life, her family and her grand children and great grandchildren.
Never letting her ailments hold her back. With the aid of her trusty crutch, Hazel was able to get around with ease when out of her wheelchair.
I remember one sunny autumn day when we had gone on a shopping trip toJohn Lewis.
After a very long morning shopping , we were on our way back to the car. In the breeze, I kept getting a glimpse of white.
I asked Hazel if she’d added a flag to her crutch.
We both stopped and Hazel lifted her crutch, perched on the top blowing in the breeze was a pair of white Lacey knickers!
Which had hooked themselves on whilst walking through the store.
We both burst out laughing.
After the giggles subsided we went back to the store to return them.
When telling the male sales assistant of her new flag, he also saw the funny side.
Then Hazel announced that she’d like to purchase the knickers as a souvenir.
As they were so pretty. So off we went smiles all round.
So in recent days in moments of great sadness, I have also had many smiles, from shared memories.
Thank you Hazel for all the laughter, and joy you bought both to me and our family. The many memories now so precious. May you rest in peace knowing we have all been touched by your love and laughter.
This is a beautiful poem by Henry Scott-Holland. It appeared in the order of service for my father’s funeral, and it was one of my mother’s favourites. It also fits in very well with her wish that we all be happy at her funeral and celebrate her life. In her final days she instructed me several times and deliberately “When I die, do not cry”.
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
Henry Scott-Holland. “Death Is Nothing At All.” Family Friend Poems, 2006. https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/death-is-nothing-at-all-by-henry-scott-holland