July 18, 1920 – Oct. 23, 2011
October 23 was exceptionally beautiful this year: autumn hues emblazoned all along the Wasatch Mountains, crystalline blue skies, tomatoes ripening in the garden and a gentle warmth rare so late in the season. That evening, while attended and comforted by daughter Joyce Kay and son-in-law Gary M. Goodrich, Doris Allphin Hatch took her final breath.
She might not have been fully aware, but the day had been eventful, with tender if tearful visits from most of her descendants. Only two weeks prior, Doris had been doing well in her 92 years of living. That day she took a walk outside to savor the gentleness of fall in the mountain west, lingering for half an hour on the porch steps as she sipped a milkshake and reminisced about longings, loved ones and Lovell. She worried about recent declines in her steadiness and strength, but she saw her life as complete.
Doris Asay was born July 18, 1920, in Lovell, to Arta Sawyer and Homer Asay. The middle of three daughters, Doris attended school in Kane, Ten Sleep, and then in Lovell. She loved life in Wyoming, especially summers on the Big Horn Mountains for sheep camp with her parents and sisters. In time, she fell in love with McKay Allphin, whom she married in 1935, their marriage later solemnized in the Salt Lake LDS Temple. They had one beloved daughter, Joyce Kay Allphin, who married Gary M. Goodrich, also of Lovell.
Doris was active in her community. While supporting her husband in his construction company, she also maintained her own business, Doris’ Beauty Haven, with loyal customers and friendships that lasted decades. She was actively dedicated to her faith, serving with her mission-president husband in the North Central States Mission for the LDS Church from 1963 to 1966.
Doris was preceded in death by her parents, husband McKay Allphin, sister Sylva Dobbins, and by her second husband Wilder Hatch. She is survived by her sister Zelpha Averett, daughter, son-in-law, six grandchildren, 21 great-grandchildren and six great-great-grandchildren. The mother of one, Doris was the second mother to many, including her grandchildren, nieces, nephews, neighbors and missionaries. She knew the balance between loving kindness and firm guidance.
Doris remained active throughout her long and full life. On Friday, she walked and on Saturday she talked with her family for the last time. It wasn’t until the uncompleted Sunday that she was rendered immobile and silent by the ending of her life. And so we are sad but grateful that sometimes autumn closes reluctantly, holding out as long as possible with fresh tomatoes, afternoon walks, and unhurried conversations with people held dear, hesitantly yielding to the change in season that we all knew must finally come.