Janette Oke

by Laurel Oke Logan

  Marge and Wilf already had three children. Gary was born after Terry, Joanne was born before the twins, and Janice was just a few months older than Laurel. Eventually Greg would come along, bringing each family to a total of six. This made the cousins good friends and provided many times of laughter while Marge and Janette observed their children growing up side-by-side, and also some moments when the two mothers would wince.

  On one of these occasions Laurel and Janice had come up with the wonderful idea of giving each other haircuts. Laurel cut first, taking a couple of snips, then passing the scissors to Janice. The older cousin did a much better job than Laurel, cutting her hair right down to the scalp in several places.

  Janette had been pleased when Laurel’s hair had finally grown to where it could be combed or curled as she had wished and she had begun to duly fuss over her daughter. But Janice had fixed that. Janette’s heart sank as she surveyed the mess. Daddy just laughed and said it would grow.

  But there had to be some attempt made to straighten out the choppy hairdo. Janette set her squirming daughter on a kitchen chair and went to work, trying to even out the patches. When later asked who had cut her hair, Laurel tipped her head and answered smugly, “Mommy did.”

  One day Janette and her little brood walked down to Aunt Marge’s house for coffee. As they said their good-byes before walking home, Janette paused a few minutes, still chatting. She allowed Laurel, now past two, to run on ahead with the boys, and she reached the house shortly before Janette.

  On arriving home, she couldn’t believe the sight that met her. In those few short minutes Laurel was already “baking” two cakes, one chocolate and the other vanilla. She had the cake mixes in separate bowls and had added all sorts of good things from the cupboard—an entire bottle of vanilla, chicken soup, and anything else that she had found handy. The whole mess wasn’t just in the bowls, either.

  While wiping and washing and sweeping up, Janette shook her head in wonder. She had been so pleased to receive her wish for a baby girl. But the nice, neat beribboned little lady she had envisioned was not the little girl she had discovered in the kitchen; and as the years passed, the differences between fantasy and reality became more obvious.

  Janette had more than one occasion to be embarrassed at Laurel’s less-than-feminine ways. One day they paid a visit to the Preschool Health Clinic. Earlier Laurel had visited her daddy’s college and played on the tractor there. Janette had not seen it happen, but the little girl had slipped, scraping her back against the metal housing. When the clinic doctor asked for the shirt to be removed, Janette found a mess of scabs and bruises. She wondered what the doctor would think—and he did make a comment, though not with any accusation.

  As a youngster, Laurel often insisted that she was not a girl but a tomboy, as though that was a third sex, and Janette could not help but be disappointed. Hair bows chosen so carefully were hard to position on the struggling, complaining child’s head. Once there, they were sure to fall into the playground dust, somewhere near the monkey bars, and be abandoned. Bumps and bruises were always showing on the sturdy little legs, peeking out from under smudged dresses.

  Janette knew she had a choice before her. Either she could make them both miserable, insisting that Laurel fall in with her mommy ideals of what a little girl should be, or she could accept the child that God had given her. So she let Laurel be herself—and watched nervously as the ambitious, energetic, imaginative, rowdy little girl grew up.

  Besides having the steady demands of motherhood, Janette spent much of her energy in keeping up with her home. Saturday mornings routinely were baking times. With the many visitors that Edward’s position involved, Janette kept a stock of frozen pies, buns, and sweet rolls ready for the unexpected. Soon her children were anxious to be involved in the process, and what had been orderly and efficient became difficult and time-consuming. She partially solved the task of “too many cooks in the kitchen” by assigning turns. Each child, in turn, was given a Saturday to be “assistant”—except on donut-baking day; then they formed an assembly line—with each child given one small step in the procedure.

  Though she took each opportunity to involve her children in her activities, Janette felt the pressure of being the college president’s wife. She did her best to involve herself by making appearances as she was able. She also continued to keep her home in order, keeping up with four active, growing children. Many nights found her falling into bed exhausted when she had been chasing after her lively youngsters all day, then making sure her home was clean, and her husband’s meals and clothing cared for. Sleep was a luxury.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  That Dog

  Terry wanted a dog in the worst way, so the Okes got a little pup that he quickly named Rover. Only later did the family discover just how appropriate a name this was; the growing puppy hated to stay where he was supposed to be.

  Edward and Terry built a little doghouse, and Terry was thrilled with his “many-breeds-but-a-lot-terrier” dog. Rover proved himself to be very good with the kids. He loved children. In fact, he hated to be away from them. For that reason, he was always finding some way to slip out of his collar and take off after Terry for the local school.

  Janette would receive another call: “Your little dog is here again,” and she would load up the younger children and go to retrieve him. She never could figure out how this ingenious dog got out of his collar or off his chain.

  Then Rover developed another bad habit. Perhaps he was simply being the protector, but as soon as Terry was home from school, the puppy chased anything that came along—cars, trucks, or bicycles. Janette was afraid someone would swerve to miss the dog and hit one of the children running after him.

  And then Rover went one step further—he started barking ferociously at people. Although he never bit anyone, he did cause a good deal of alarm one day when he went after a dear, elderly neighbor man, giving him quite a scare. For some time, Edward and Janette had talked about Rover’s problems, and the last episode was enough to convince them. They could not have Rover running around frightening people or risk the chance that he would actually bite someone.

  They talked to Terry about it. Of course, he was devastated. He tried desperately to come up with his own solutions. It was heartbreaking to hear this little boy fighting to save his little dog.

  “I’ll get a book on training dogs,” he begged, “and I’ll teach him not to do it.”

  They knew they had already given the little dog too many “chances.” And if he were too aggressive, it would not solve the problem by simply giving him away. So an appointment with the vet was made.

  Edward drove the beloved pet the ten miles to the veterinary office. Terry had asked to go along, and held his dog in his lap, loving him for one last time. When they arrived, he relinquished the leash to his dad.

  “Bring me back his collar,” he asked through tears.

  Janette wasn’t sure who grieved more—Terry or her. Watching her son’s pain hurt deeply, and she herself had liked the little dog, so she felt rather like a murderer. Often she glanced out the window at the now-empty clothesline where he had been tied, and wept silent tears for her small son and his little dog. She prayed that Terry would quickly heal from his traumatic experience. She also hoped he would not get the erroneous idea that when things in the home became difficult, they were simply disposed of.

  In due time, a new puppy was adopted. A funny, shaggy little poodle-terrier cross. Terry watched with delight as the new pup sniffed and searched in his new surroundings. Without a moment’s hesitation, he was named Curious George Oke after the storybook monkey. Curious provided many years of fun—plus a few headaches, too—though fortunately not any as serious as his predecessor.

  He was a sassy little dog, never growing much bigger than a small terrier but willing to take on anything, be it Great Dane, German shepherd, or alley cat. But he, too, was wonderful with kids. Edward and Janette were confident that their children could do a
nything with him and he would never become aggressive.

  However, one of the favorite games that the Oke kids played with Curious was called “Mad Dog.” They would be in the basement or in the backyard and someone would call, “Let’s play Mad Dog,” and Janette would know she was in for a lot of racket.

  Each of the kids knew just what to do, and Curious seemed to be aware of his special role too. The children would run around, jumping on furniture or fences, whatever was near, and the furry little scrap would dart to and fro, nipping at their heels and barking furiously.

  In a moment, the quiet, compliant dog turned into a beast, flying around and catching pant legs or shoes, whatever he could grab. He growled and chased, barked and nipped, and was dragged along the floor or ground, behind anyone not quick enough to escape his teeth. But he never hurt anyone, and they all loved the game—Curious included. Janette was perhaps the only one who was not completely enthusiastic. There was the dreadful noise—and the possibility of torn pant legs.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  New Home

  With summer came hopes for building a new house. Grandpa Oke had provided the lot, next door to his own new home, and also the funds for the basic construction. Perhaps there were those who held their breath, wondering if the new house was a bit too close to parents, but Edward and Janette could not feel happier about a chance to own their first home.

  Terry was then seven, the twins four, and Laurel three. Edward and Janette held to the theory that “strong fences make good neighbors,” and accordingly planned to build one. They did not want trouble from little people leaving toys or ruining gardens in the yard of these important neighbors—their own grandparents.

  Another faculty family would use the college-owned house. The plan was to have the new house ready to move into by the time the previous house was needed. The plan started well, but time worked against it. As often happens in construction schedules, it turned out that the other family wanted to move in long before the new house was ready for occupancy, and soon household goods were packed up and stored in Grandpa Oke’s garage. For the summer months the family lived from suitcases, bouncing back and forth between grandparents, Oke and Steeves. It was a lot of traveling for Janette. She would just get situated at the Hoadley farmhouse, two hours away, with her own mom and dad when she would be needed back in Didsbury for some decisions regarding the new house.

  It was even more difficult for the kids—Lorne and Lavon in particular. On one occasion Janette took them to Hoadley to leave them with Grandma and Grandpa Steeves. She thought they understood the plan, but it turned out she was wrong.

  After putting them to bed and staying until they were sleeping, Janette drove the one-hundred-plus miles back to Didsbury. When the boys awoke the next morning, they were horrified to find Mommy gone. Huddled together on the couch, they refused to eat, refused to play, and even refused to rouse. Grandma Steeves could not coax them to do anything but cling to each other.

  Finally she phoned Didsbury. She was concerned about the little fellows and felt that their mother should come and either take them back to Didsbury or else be with them in Hoadley. When someone answered the phone, Amy was told that Janette was not there but that they would give her a message.

  Janette never received the message. By the time she did return to Hoadley, her boys had seemingly adjusted, but for several years they did not have the same excitement as before at the chance to go to Grandma Steeves’ house. Janette felt sick about it. She had not realized how difficult it had been for them to be bounced back and forth and then left on their own.

  A new house simply was not worth that kind of trauma and confusion. So it was decided that the family would move in long before the house was ready. It was just too important to be together. Janette had no kitchen cupboards, the floors were bare, the walls unpainted, and there were daily piles of sawdust, but at least they were all together. And for the children, the unfinished home was extra exciting. Only Janette struggled daily to pull together a home from the chaos.

  Edward was preparing for another college term, so he had very little time to be involved in the house project. Janette stained and varnished the wood trim, attempted the painting chores, which she hated, and swept up the sawdust daily. Even blankets needed to be shaken and beds remade before children could be tucked in at night. It seemed like forever, but eventually they had a home to live in. By that time Janette was emotionally and physically exhausted, and she vehemently declared, “Never again!”

  Once the essential work on the house was done and Janette had given herself time to forget the frustration of overseeing it and doing much of the work herself, she began the enjoyable task of decorating. Room by room, over time, she worked with what resources she had and carefully created a tasteful, warm atmosphere for her family.

  Christmas, 1968, was spent entertaining extended family in the new house. A long table was set up in the basement, and family members from the Steeves’ side crowded together, not minding that the room was still unfinished.

  After the hustle of the season had passed, Janette began to sell Artex, a popular method of decorating household linens, for a little extra income. The liquid embroidery paint was sold at in-home parties, where Janette would demonstrate the painting techniques and then make the tubes and iron-on patterns available to anyone interested.

  Selling the product was not difficult. Here was a way to enjoy the attractiveness of needlework without the hours or skill necessary for such an undertaking. Parties were scheduled often during the few years Janette was involved in this business. But after a while scheduling often became inconvenient, so she decided to give the business up.

  When spring arrived, Janette turned some of her efforts to the garden. Raspberry bushes were added, rhubarb planted, and flowers placed carefully to enhance Edward’s landscaping.

  The long days of summer passed, and Janette began the seasonal bustle to process the harvest. Along with the canned pears and peaches, jars of jams, jellies, and pickles filled the new pantry shelves. Then garden produce was ready to be frozen or stored. Long evenings spent over a dish shelling peas brought aching shoulders and a stiff back. Still, the burden of feeding the growing family was eased by her work.

  Laurel soon caught up to her brothers in size, so by the time the twins started off to kindergarten, they looked like triplets. This sometimes bothered the boys—but it was all right with Laurel.

  For many years now, Janette had been kept more than busy with her active family. One day at her kitchen sink washing dishes, she noticed a new neighbor lady pass by on the sidewalk.

  “Oh, God,” she silently mourned in a short prayer. “I haven’t even had her over for coffee. It seems that the kids take all my time.”

  She was almost startled by the clear, immediate answer she heard inwardly. “They’re supposed to,” God whispered to her troubled heart. With the wonderful release from guilt, and a reaffirming of priorities, she was free to give her time and herself to the children in her home.

  Now that three children were in school for at least part of the day, morning routines developed. For the family this meant breakfast, which was all too often porridge, followed by family devotions. This devotional time changed over the years but usually included Scripture reading, singing songs and choruses together, and memorizing Scripture verses. At times family members got to “perform” on one instrument or another. Sometimes they all played together. Then each had a turn praying as well, or expressing words of thankfulness for things God had done. And, even at this early age, the children learned that there was much to be thankful for.

  For one thing, there was never a time when the children felt concern or doubt about their home being divided or that their parents would ever separate. True, they had their differences—but these were settled in private. In the children’s presence, Edward and Janette presented a solid, united front—two different people with different characteristics and personalities but who loved and respected each other
and the security needed for a solid home.

  There had already been several stages in Janette’s role as a mother. First the struggle to begin the family with its great disappointments, followed by the blur of early days of diapers and bottles. Then came the years of watching over busy toddlers, until each of these had been left behind. The children who now occupied her home were changing. Each day seemed to bring more and more independence, and the familiar calls to “Mommy” became less frequent.

  For Janette this meant that less of her time was spent actively “mothering,” though she was certain that she gave no less of herself emotionally to the task. There continued the complexities of raising the family and praying fervently that she was doing so effectively and correctly. And she also prayed for the many times when she could not be near. At those moments anything could happen—and usually did.

  The same winter that the twins started kindergarten, Grandmother Oke bought them fuzzy red parkas trimmed with white fur. The pair made quite a sight as they wandered down the street on their way to school, and there were many comments to and about them.

  At a small cafe on Main Street, the owner and several of the regular patrons began to watch for them to appear. Aware of the unwanted attention as they passed the window, the boys finally resorted to dropping down and crawling past so no one would see them. This delighted their audience, who always managed to know they were there.

  Two years later, just as Laurel was about to start kindergarten, Janette was approached by the local Royal Bank of Canada to see if she was interested in working. They had heard of her banking experience and needed someone who already knew the job. She and Edward talked about it, and Margie agreed to baby-sit after the half day of kindergarten; her own daughter, Janice, was in the same kindergarten class. So Janette decided to give it a try. Certainly the extra paycheck would be useful to help meet the family’s needs.