Janette Oke

by Laurel Oke Logan

  Following the strict orders that he should not climb the stairs to his bedroom, a bed was prepared for him in the living room. There was no door to the entrance of this room, so the next day some of his daughters, Janette among them, went to town to purchase a curtain. While they stopped in the local coffee shop, some of the other family members came to find them.

  “Dad’s gone,” Orville told them softly. They couldn’t believe it. They had left him only a short while before, and he had looked fine. It had happened just as the doctor had said it would. One moment he had been having tea with family and visiting friends, then he leaned forward with a pained expression. Sharon had quickly crossed to find out what was wrong.

  “I’ll be fine in a minute,” he had answered, and he was. In the next moment he was with God. The verse on Janette’s daily prayer calendar for October 4, 1984, said, “Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord” (Matthew 23:39).

  The family mourned and rejoiced all at the same time. They had lost much. The tender daddy of their childhood, the welcoming embrace whenever they visited home, and the gentleman who had given so much of himself so that they could become who they were.

  Yet they could not help but rejoice that they would see him again when they also reached heaven. This wonderful, upright, moral example whom they had called “Daddy” had now been washed clean by the blood of Jesus and welcomed into the heavenly kingdom. Had his death come just days sooner as it perhaps should have medically—they shuddered at the thought, knowing the Bible is clear that it is not enough to be good or moral. Only accepting the redemption of Christ on his behalf could make Fred a citizen of heaven.

  Fred had always been a nature lover—and now the land that he enjoyed was dressed in fall colors. The family chose not to order floral arrangements but to use things from his own garden blended with cut flowers to make their own personal pieces. June skillfully prepared the arrangements. The coffin was covered with a lovely spray in browns and golds. Because of his love for baseball, Amy arranged for one of the ribbons to say: “Safe At Home.”

  The funeral service was one of grieving, of rejoicing, and of sharing the Christian faith and Fred’s recent conversion with the community. The congregation was admonished not to leave their decision until so late in life.

  Janette wrote a tribute on behalf of his children, and Edward read it at the service. It expressed the family’s feeling for the gentle man who had been their daddy, and their pride in carrying his name. The “love letter” ended with the words:

  We’ll miss you, Dad.

  We’re glad you’re waiting there

  In your corner chair in Heaven.

  When we arrive

  We know you’ll meet us at the door

  And we will feel your arms again

  That warm, strong hug

  That we have missed.

  You won’t say much

  But the sparkle in your eyes

  Will say to us,

  “I’m glad you’re home.”

  Janette knew she would miss her father, but she had no idea of just how much of a sense of loss there would be. She felt emotionally numb for weeks, perhaps even months, dangling somewhere between reality and nowhere. If it had not been for the love and presence of her heavenly Father, she may have despaired. With time she began to connect again with the present world. She still missed him, for he had been the biggest human influence in her life as a child and she had loved him dearly. But life had to go on.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Going On

  The following year was the busiest Janette had yet seen with speaking engagements, all crowded into a heavy writing schedule and homemaking responsibilities, each requiring time to prepare as well as the travel involved. By the time she returned home she was often exhausted.

  During the summer, she and Edward were able to take a cruise of the Caribbean. They relaxed on ship, dined at tables filled with an abundance of food, and shopped in the interesting ports. They were glad to leave responsibilities behind for a while.

  When they returned, they began the process of moving Amy from the family farm in Hoadley into Rimbey. Her children were worried about her being alone on the farm and away from help if it were ever needed, so they encouraged her to take a house in town.

  Janette spent some time with a realtor in Rimbey, looking at available houses for sale. When they discovered one that could be made to accommodate Amy’s wheelchair and realized that it was across the street from Amy’s good friends the Lindbergs, Janette was excited to take the news to Amy.

  With friends nearby and a home that would meet her needs, Amy agreed with surprisingly little hesitation. Then the work of packing and moving began.

  Christmas that year came with not one but two grandchildren on the way. Terry and Barbara were expecting in February, and Laurel and Marvin were due in April. It was exciting for Janette and Edward to have the prospect of their own grandchildren.

  Ashley Caroline was born on February 21. Janette, anticipating the birth, had booked tickets to fly back to Alberta to visit with Terry and Barb in March, but when word came that Ashley had been born, it was hard for her to wait for her scheduled flight date.

  There were other considerations as well. Marvin and Laurel were now living in North Carolina, and though her due date was April 15, almost two months after Barbara’s, Janette was busy juggling her calendar.

  She felt sure that she could work in visits to both new grandchildren with no problem. She and Edward had even planned a short trip to Holland over the college spring break with friends from the St. Mark Missionary Church. They had never been overseas and looked forward to the weeklong trip abroad. Janette planned to be back in plenty of time to catch her booked flight to Alberta to get to know her new granddaughter. Then in a few weeks she would make the trip to North Carolina.

  Lorne and Lavon stayed behind to care for things at the house. The plans had been laid out so carefully, but upon their return home from the trip to Holland, Janette and Edward were welcomed with astounding news. Not only did they have already have a granddaughter, they also had a grandson. Nathanael Edward Logan had arrived six weeks early but was doing fine.

  Now the new grandma had a dilemma. She had already booked a flight to Alberta and would keep it as planned. Could she also squeeze in a trip to North Carolina before she was scheduled to leave for Canada? No, she finally admitted that was not possible. But the six-week-old Nate had not aged terribly by the time Grandma arrived, bringing grandmotherly boastings—and pictures—of his new little cousin Ashley.

  Edward had completed his doctorate work the previous summer, so it had been decided that the home in Indiana would soon be sold and a move back to Didsbury was planned. Edward had been offered the presidency at Mountain View Bible College for the third time, much to the delight of his mother, who was still living in Didsbury.

  This time, they left three of their four children in the United States, along with their first grandson. It was not an easy move to make, but they did have the excitement of Terry, Barbara, and little Ashley waiting at the other end of the line.

  Edward and Janette purchased a home in Didsbury and settled in. They had not expected to face adjustments. So much was the same, and yet they soon discovered that much had also changed. Janette felt she didn’t fit back in the familiar roles of the past, and for a while it was a very difficult move for her. Eventually, she began to find herself busy again with writing, college, and church, and gradually a comfortable routine fell into place.

  Further complicating Janette’s ability to reestablish herself, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was feeling increasingly poorly. It wasn’t exactly sickness, though periods of illness—colds, flu, and such—seemed to come all too frequently. There was more to it. Something intangible. Her muscles ached almost constantly, and her head throbbed far too often. Sleep had become elusive, and Janette had also become aware that her mind seemed to have sl
owed a little. She mentally groped a little harder to come up with names, numbers, and facts—even words, sometimes. And she often found herself out of breath after short periods of activity—like climbing stairs.

  Her best description seemed to be that her blood might not be circulating properly. That somehow it wasn’t reaching her aching shoulders and head, and not delivering oxygen quite quickly enough to her lungs and brain. But none of the few doctors she had seen would give serious consideration to her own analysis.

  Instead, she was given several medications to try, in a chemical attempt to alleviate her problems, but she was plagued with dreadfully negative reactions to the medications. It seemed easier just to tolerate the original complaints. Then she began to explore natural food supplements and various vitamins, and doggedly exercised in an attempt to get that blood flowing well. Still, there seemed to be few real answers. Janette could think of nothing to do but continue to push herself through her busy days.

  Then exciting news came from the publishers that her book sales had reached the three million mark. She had determined to withhold more of her time for writing; so with the move, Janette had set her own cut-off point on speaking engagements, taking only those she felt compelled to meet after they had settled in Didsbury.

  On one occasion, after she had boarded a train late at night to travel to where she would speak, she allowed her tired body to collapse against the seat beneath her and reached a hand up to rub at her weary shoulder. Leaning back against the seat, Janette turned her head to gaze out the window. Instead, her eyes fell upon the reflection of a slumped woman with a weary face and she shuddered.

  “Oh, if only they could see me now! Could it really be this haggard woman that these ladies want to hear from?” And then, suddenly it was amusing, and she found she could chuckle softly at herself.

  Edward began the awesome task of working on a merger of Mountain View Bible College with another Christian college of about the same size. The plan was to sell the two separate campuses, one in Didsbury and the other in Medicine Hat, and combine the two into one school in Calgary. This would take years of careful and tedious planning, and Edward, along with others, was very involved in the undertaking.

  In the fall of 1986, Laurel and baby Nate were able to come home to Didsbury for a visit. It was so much fun to have Ashley and Nate, the little cousins of half a year, together. They seemed to know they belonged to each other and—even though they were too young to converse—did enjoy playing and tumbling around and over each other. Their doting grandmother took lots of pictures, enjoying each minute with her grandchildren.

  In May of 1987, Janette was invited to give the graduation address at Bethel College in Mishawaka, Indiana. At that time she was also granted the honorary Doctor of Humanities for her work in literature as a member of the Missionary Church denomination. It was strangely humbling to be honored in such a fashion.

  Lorne and Lavon were both graduating from Bethel College at about the same time—and each was entering teaching. Lorne would be coaching volleyball and teaching math, and Lavon would be teaching music. Edward’s ideals of so many years ago seemed to have worked themselves out. Eventually, Lavon chose to further his education and completed a master’s degree at Indiana University in Bloomington.

  Meanwhile, Lorne had met a girl by the name of Deborah Sousley, and they were planning a June wedding. The family would fly from Alberta to Indiana to join them, but there was a complication. Barbara was expecting their second child—and Terry was to be in the wedding party. According to Barbara’s doctor, the baby would arrive before the flight date, and they would be able to head for Indiana as a family of four.

  Apparently the baby had not been told of the plan. The days passed one by one, and still no cooperation. It was finally decided that Janette and Edward would leave, taking one-year-old Ashley with them. Then, hopefully, Barbara, Terry, and the new arrival would follow, just in time for the wedding. But still nothing happened.

  A few hours before they were to leave, Barbara was taken to the hospital. The doctor declared this to be a false alarm and predicted that nothing would happen for some time yet. At the very last minute, Barbara sent Terry to catch the plane—alone.

  That was precisely when little Amanda Janette decided to make her appearance. Barbara’s mother was with her in the delivery room as her “coach” and the “welcoming committee” for the new baby. It was a difficult time for Terry to be gone and, of course, for Barb as well.

  Amanda was born on the twenty-fifth of June; Lorne and Deb were married on the twenty-seventh. Edward and Janette stayed for an additional week, so they could attend the wedding of their nephew, then went back to Alberta to get acquainted with little Amanda.

  Ashley was thrilled with her baby sister. Only sixteen months old herself, little more than a baby, she was a very mature little girl for her age and did everything early, including talking. She called her sister “Manny” and loved her dearly. Whenever Ashley awoke from her nap or came in from an outing, she would head for her little sister. The family all shared her joy at the new blessing.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Farm

  One day a realtor friend in Didsbury phoned.

  “Janette, you’ve just got to see this house. I walked in the front door, and I felt that Laura Ingalls Wilder must have just walked out the back,” she raved. Since Janette loved old houses, she quickly agreed to see it.

  One could see that the little farmhouse had been a beautiful place at one time. Now it stood deserted and empty, even though there were still reminders that it had been home to a family. The children had grown, and the elderly farmer had been stricken with cancer. The family had urged their parents to move to town where it would be more convenient for them. Reluctantly, they had agreed.

  “But I don’t even know how to pack for a move,” the old man had objected.

  “Then don’t,” the kids had answered. “We’ll just take what you need as you need it.” And so the house still held some furniture—even some medicine in the washroom cabinet. Garments hung on pegs in the closet, and old, worn neckties draped on a hanger beside them.

  However, the house showed signs of wear and neglect. Janette knew that if something were not done soon, it would begin to crumble. “Someone should save it,” she mused, feeling sad at the thought of it falling apart.

  She and Edward had often talked of her having a place to go to do her writing, a quiet atmosphere with no interruptions. They looked at the property and saw the potential, and in the end purchased the quarter section of farmland along with the little broken-down house.

  They didn’t quite realize what a big job they had undertaken. Though it was obvious that the house had never had electricity, water, sewer, or natural gas connections, each step taken seemed to uncover additional work needed. They began renovations by moving the house off to the side, putting a full basement under it, gutting the interior, and basically starting over. Because Janette wanted to stay as close as possible to the original structure, they preserved all the heavy woodwork, numbering it and laying it aside. Then they started to rebuild.

  Janette herself took on the job of general contractor and brought in the tradesmen as they were needed. It turned out to be a great deal of work, and she vowed never to take on such a task again.

  In August of 1987, an extended family reunion was planned at the Mountain View campus. Since everyone was interested in “Janette’s farmhouse,” she led several little tours out to see the project. Already the place was beginning to take shape, but there was still a long way to go.

  Ashley and Nate were eighteen months now and really enjoyed being together. At two months, Amanda was still too young to know what all the fussing was about, but she seemed to enjoy the attention. Even someone who was a stranger to her could coax her to smile or coo. The reunion over, the family hugged and laughed and said good-byes and returned to their homes.

  On the morning of September 10, Edward answered the phone. Janette
could tell by the look on his face that the news was not good. Setting the receiver back in its cradle, he was not even able to share with her concerning the call before the phone rang again. This call confirmed the tragic news. Edward hung up the receiver from the second call, turned to an anxious Janette, and pulled her close. “Amanda is gone,” he said in a choked voice.

  She would not believe him. She did not want to believe him. She could not possibly believe him. There had to be some mistake. They had seen Amanda such a short time ago, and she had been healthy and whole. She had not been sick. What could possibly have happened?

  “Crib death. Barbara found her this morning.”

  The tears that followed were not for her own loss, but for Barbara. She could only imagine the horror of the scene, and she began to fervently pray for her grief-stricken daughter-in-law.

  “God, wipe away the memory of what she found,” she prayed over and over. “Leave her with beautiful memories of her precious baby girl.”

  “We’ve got to go,” she declared with urgency.

  It was a three-hour trip from Didsbury to Edmonton. Edward made a few brief phone calls to make some arrangements for his college responsibilities while Janette got ready to go.

  What a long, long drive it was. They were so anxious to get to Terry and Barb; and try as she would, Janette could not make herself stop hoping that there had been a dreadful mistake and that they would find Amanda alive and well—not really dead.

  But it was true. A tearful son and a distraught daughter-in-law met them at the door. Little Ashley had been taken to the neighbor’s home earlier.

  Terry had gone to work at the usual time, they explained through their tears. Barbara had gradually become aware that two-and-a-half-month-old Amanda was sleeping later than usual. She went to the bedroom and, sensing something terribly wrong, slipped her hand under the blanket to touch Amanda’s little leg. She was horrified to find her baby cold and stiff.