Stand Back and Admire Your Work

Margaret and Dick Janes

"When you've worked hard, stand back and admire your work."  -- Dick Janes (my dad)

All who knew my parents, can testify that they were hard workers.  They believed in working hard, and they taught their children to do the same.  Mom thought that a house was never really clean until she moved all the furniture and vacuumed behind and underneath it.  She also felt that if she was going to move it to vacuum, she may as well change the furniture around, so each week the furniture was in a different place.  My parents also believed that a good job and good work ethic should never go unnoticed -- especially by the person doing the work.

I remember working along side my parents doing many things.  There were times when I would be absolutely exhausted at the end of a project.  It was then that Dad would sit me down, pour me a glass of ice water, and say, "Stand back and admire your work."

In late August, I quit my job to stay home and enjoy life with my husband.  Before I could do that, however, I needed to get control of my house again.  You see, 35 years of raising kids produced a lot of "stuff."  I was not about to grow old in a house full of unorganized "stuff."  My house became more disorganized when I went back to work full-time, and only got worse as we made room to store boxes for kids who were in college or on LDS missions.  While it wasn't in "hoarder" condition, it was definitely out of control.  I told myself that if I would do something every day, that eventually I would have a house that I could actually enjoy.

So beginning August 27, 2011, every day (with the exception of an 8-day vacation), I have worked on my house.  I have done something every day.  Systematically, I went through every room of my house, including the garage, closet by closet, shelf by shelf.  Each day I sorted, gave away, donated, tossed, and then began anew the next day.  I'm almost done.  There are a couple of little things left, but not much.  I cleaned the carpet in the living room today.  Sometime this weekend I'll clean the carpet in the family room.  I want to clean off a couple of marks on my office wall or use some "touch up" paint on them if they won't clean.  I want to use Murphy's Oil Soap on my old oak table and then wax it, and I still need to stablize the track on the pantry door.  I need to shave the bottom of the linen closet door so it doesn't drag on the carpet.  Then I think I'm done.

I'll admit that I left the spice cabinet until almost the last thing.  I'll also admit to waiting until Danny went to bed last night before starting that project so that I could shed a few tears in the process.  You see, my mother always cleaned my spice cabinet for me.  Every time I had a baby, she would come and help me, and she never left without cleaning my spice cabinet.  I don't know why she did that.  Maybe she thought she was good at it.  Maybe she thought I was bad at it.  Maybe she just chose this uniquely weird way to give service to her daughter.  I don't know if she gave the same service to her other children, or if she did something else for them.  I've never asked.  All I know is that I appreciated it immensely!  Danny used to tease me that it was time to have another baby because the spice cabinet needed help.  I don't think I've ever cleaned it until last night.  After Mom died, I coerced children to do it for me because I couldn't do it.  It just didn't seem right.  Mom died in 1991 -- I decided last night that it was time to be a big girl.  It looks nice -- maybe not the way Mom would have done it, but I can work with it.

When my youngest returns from her LDS mission in Brazil and moves her stuff out of her closet, then I will move the Christmas bins out of the garage and into that closet.  Then for the first time in many years, we'll be able to fit a car in our one-car garage.  That is something that hasn't happened since the first year a semi-truck parked in front of my house and filled my garage with boxes of Camp Fire candy.

I'm close enough to finishing my project that I'm beginning to stand back and admire my work. I'm actually pretty proud of myself and the quality of my work. It has taken me less than three months to get this house in shape, and I thought it would take me much longer than that.  I should finish just in time to decorate for Christmas.

After the holidays, I'll really begin retirement.  I have a long list of things I want to do.  At the top of the list is calling Sister Grover and making an appointment so she can teach me how to tat (the lost art of lace making).

Anticipation Is Almost Over

It's finally almost here.  The day in some ways we've been waiting for our whole marriage.  Our youngest child is leaving the nest in three days.  I'm writing this on Saturday night, and she leaves early Wednesday morning.

There are a whole lot of emotions at this time.  I'm excited for her.  She is going on a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  She will be serving the Lord in the country of Brasil.  There has been a boatload of preparation for this wonderful adventure.  Of course, we will miss her.  I'll do the same thing every night at bedtime that I did when the other kids served their missions.  As I lock the sliding glass door, I'll look out at the stars and the moon, wish her goodnight, and ask Heavenly Father to watch over her.  Then I'll express gratitude that she has this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

While we will miss her, there is something different this time from when the other kids left on their missions.  This time Danny and I will be empty nesters -- alone for the first time in our whole marriage.  I became pregnant with our first child two weeks after we were married -- so we've waited for the "alone time" almost 35 years.  We start our marriage anew Wednesday morning.

We will miss raising kids.  It was a fun period of our lives.  It was also hard -- very hard.  The best things in life are hard.  No one ever said raising kids is easy.  My kids may not know it yet, but we were pretty darned good parents.  We made some enormous mistakes, but we did our best.  They are terrific adults, and I'd like to think we can take credit for at least a portion of that.  I don't think I've ever said that publicly before.  People have told me over the years that we're good parents, and I shrug it off and tell them that we were blessed with good kids.  We were blessed with good kids -- but even the good ones need some direction.  So for the first time in 35 years, I'm going to forget humility and take credit for Danny and I being good parents.

It is with great anticipation that I look forward to the next chapter of our lives together.  I love being Danny's wife.  I'm going to love spending quality time with him every day.  By nature, I'm a spontaneous person.  I'm going to love waking up in the morning and being spontaneous about what the day brings.  You can't do that when you're raising children.

Danny just had his 69th birthday.  My father died when he was 64.  For about a year before Danny turned 64, I could not stop thinking about that.  It was then that I wanted to quit my job and stay home with my husband, but financially, it was not in the cards.  I'm grateful that Danny is still in good health.  I'm even more grateful that we will have this time together.  I just quit working, and I won't be 57 years old for another couple of months.  Our finances would be in better shape if I kept working a few more years, but money isn't everything.  There are some things that are just too important to wait.  At some point, I may end up working again.  As long as I can still type, I can work.  The arthritis in my fingers will just have to understand that!

I love being a granny, and Danny loves being a grandpa.  We look forward to the opportunity to be better grandparents.

Sitting in this seat tonight feels pretty good.  All is well with the world.  We're healthy, we're happy, and none of the kids are in therapy from our parenting (yet).  All five of them (my stepson included in that number) have served missions.  Three of them have marriages sealed in the temple for time and all eternity.  We have every reason to believe that my youngest will come back from her mission and find an eternal companion.  And someday, hopefully, my stepson can be sealed to his wife in the temple by proxy.  After all the years of parental worry and sleepless nights, I think we're seeing the light at the end of the temple -- and all is well.

Nauvoo Retirement Trip

Kaylonnie Surviving the Cold in Nauvoo

Danny retired from Caltrans after 35 years working for the State of California in September, 2004.  Prior to his retirement, I began saving money for "the retirement trip."  I asked him where he wanted to go, and he said he wanted to go to the church history site at Nauvoo, Illinois.  Nauvoo was where members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) were driven from in the dead of winter to begin their trek west to the great Salt Lake Valley.  This was supposed to be sort of a second honeymoon for us, this little retirement trip.  The closer his retirement came, however, the more we realized what a great experience the trip to Nauvoo would be for our youngest daughter, who was in high school.  We decided to take her with us, and we saved a little longer.

In October, 2005, the three of us departed by airplane to St. Louis, Missouri, where we did a little sightseeing, rented a car, and drove to Nauvoo, Illinois.  We had a great time in St. Louis, saw the giant arch, as well as the outside of the St. Louis Temple.  The trip from St. Louis to Nauvoo, however, I was beginning to wish I could put a sock in my teenage daughter's mouth.  It was nonstop talking from St. Louis to Nauvoo.  Unfortunately, I lost my clip-on sunglasses somewhere and couldn't find any to fit my glasses until long after my light-sensitive eyes had given me a major headache--and the kid's nonstop mouth wasn't helping.

We were supposed to check in at the Nauvoo Motel by a certain time, and it became apparent that we were not going to make that deadline.  We stopped somewhere and called the motel to make sure they would hold our room.  The owners of the Nauvoo Motel also own the more pricey Nauvoo Hotel, which is where we were to pick up our keys.  The Nauvoo Hotel has quite a fancy buffet dinner in the evening, and the owners are busy there after a certain hour.  They were very sweet and told us they would put our keys in the mailbox, and we could pick them up there.  (You've got to love small towns!)

As we drove around the last curve in the road before Nauvoo, the Nauvoo Temple was in sight.  It was absolutely gorgeous!  It was all lit up, and the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen simply enveloped the temple!  None of the pictures we have, nor none of the postcards we bought due justice to that beautiful site, so I have not included a picture here.  Danny and I had the opportunity to attend the temple later in the week.

We drove into the parking lot of the Nauvoo Hotel to pick up our keys, and got out of the car.  I suddenly realized that for the first time in at least 12 hours, my lovely teenage daughter was silent.  I said, "What's wrong?"  (I mean, when the kid shuts up, there has to be something wrong, right?)  Almost in a whisper she said, "Mom, do you realize we could be walking where Joseph Smith walked?!"  That one moment in that parking lot was well worth making our second honeymoon a kid trip!  We took a couple of minutes in the parking lot and talked about many other early church members who walked the streets of Nauvoo, as well as Kaylonnie's fourth great-grandmother, Ingeborg Mortensen Jensen, who passed through Nauvoo on her way to the Salt Lake Valley from Denmark--a handcart pioneer.

We spent several days in Nauvoo, and we also made a trip to Carthage to see where the Prophet Joseph Smith was martyred, and Quincy, Illinois where the pioneers found brief refuge from their enemies.  Thank you, Quincy!

There were many special spiritual moments.  I think I'll never forget, walking the trail of tears--the street the saints walked down on their way to the river when they had to exit Nauvoo.  The three of us walked the trail of tears one evening on down to the Mississippi River.  We stopped at each marker and read the personal stories of some of those pioneers.  I would read until I would begin crying, and Kaylonnie would take over.  Then when she began crying, I would pick it up again.  Danny stood almost motionless as he would listen to us read those markers.  It had been very warm in Nauvoo until that evening.  The next morning we couldn't help going back to the Mississippi River on our way out of town.  It was so cold I thought our feet would freeze solid on the ground!  As we stood looking across the Mississippi River, we talked about the fact that it was much warmer that morning than it was for those first evacuees from Nauvoo.  We had much warmer clothing, and dry shoes.  I'm crying as I write this remembering the experience.

Our trip was not yet complete, however.  We realized that we had taken our other children to Salt Lake City, but we had never taken Kaylonnie.  Since she saw where it all began, she needed to see where the trek ended.  A couple of years later, we made that trip too.

Danny and I have since had several little trips on our own, but I'm so grateful that the Spirit guided us to take Kaylonnie with us on that trip to Nauvoo! My oldest daughter saw Nauvoo when she was in college in Missouri. Someday I hope our other two children will have that opportunity.

Danny and I in front of the St. Louis Temple

Kaylonnie, Danny, and Laurie at Seventy's Hall

Danny and Kaylonnie at Seventy's Hall

Danny and Kaylonnie - Quincy, Illinois