It was a familiar scene.
Boxes of crafting supplies, brushes, paint, sacks filled with markers,
brushes, and glue sticks were scattered all over the dining room table. Raffia fell on the beautiful hardwood floor
and the wispy, thin strings of hot glue hung from our newly created scarecrows
like spider webs in the corner of an old window outside. (They are similar to
those in my bathroom…. but who chooses cleaning over crafting with
friends? Seriously? Who does that?) The projects were propped up all over the
house. Each one uniquely different, yet
similar. Their faces and accessories as
different as the women who have created them.
We are young and old, quiet and loud, girlfriends, wives, daughters,
grandmothers, and friends. We are
related—some biologically; and some by those bonds that have been formed when
you’ve shared so many experiences you forget you don’t share a common last name.
The assembly
of the self-proclaimed crafting queens began taking place about 7-8 years ago
during the opening of hunting season. Men hunt and drink, women craft and shop.
(...and drink and laugh and…We have WAY more fun and we don’t need a license or
orange vests to do so.) It has been a two-year hiatus since we’ve met. I think
each of us, in our own way, were mentally recalling those earlier craft days
and the matriarch of the materials and organizing queen who made this all
possible. We remember the glitter paint,
and digging through her amazing collection of quilting material. Yards and
yards of textiles as colorful and beautiful as she was to so many. We can hear her soft, encouraging voice
telling us to go ahead and just use whatever we wanted. “Take it, use it, try it….”any and all of
those words were repeated over and over as we glittered and glued and cluttered
up her house, consumed her delicious food, and bathed in her attention and
love. We were missing one very important member of this crafting weekend. We were missing Janet.
There are
not enough good things I could write about Janet. I will try in this blog, but if you were not
blessed by knowing her, I am truly sorry.
She was someone we should all strive to be—kind, ambitious, accepting, fair,
caring, generous, witty, loving…did I say kind? Did I mention hard-working?
Fun? Janet got more done before 7 AM on
Monday than I did by Thursday. And not
just once-in-awhile…EVERY single week.
She was a go- getter. Her attitude and ambition amazed me. She worked at so many different thing—raising
a family, ranching with her brother and family, supporting community events,
quilting, baking, supporting her kids and their teammates in their many
activities. Janet did all of this and
made it look effortless. And that smile….
her smile was incredible. And it made you feel incredible when you
were lucky enough to be around it’s warm glow. She had a grace about her that made everyone feel
better the minute they were in her presence.
What a gift….
I remember
one particular crafting evening down at the ranch where Melissa and Janet were
trying to get a wall hanging done. No
wait, Melissa wanted Janet to help her get her
wall hanging done. And of course, Janet was all in. That’s just who she was. They knew if they worked on this one, Janet
and her talented quilting club would whip the rest out in a few afternoons. Also
a talented seamstress, Melissa knows her way around a sewing machine, and
within minutes, the two of them had machines threaded, scissors slicing, and
then proclaimed they needed someone to press the pieces of material. (Or maybe
they were sick of me standing around? I’m
not sure….THANK GOD there were only two machines. ) Janet assigned me to the ironing board and I
pressed the lovely green and red patterned pieces and dutifully walked them
over to her so she could add it to the wall hanging. I would admire her quick, skillful work about
every third trip. Her response was
always the same. “Oh heck Lynn, you
could do this. Really this is simple.” Or she would say, “You have no idea how much
I appreciate you doing the ironing, Lynn.
It’s really the worst part of quilting.” (If it had been anyone else but dear Janet, it
would have been a” Tom Sawyer fence painting” kind of moment, but not with
Janet—she needed me to press those seams.) I replied the ironing was probably the only
part of quilting I would ever be able to do as I was not talented at sewing.
(Flashback to my first sewing experience, 45 some years ago, despite laboring
for over a week on simple top and pair of shorts at the Tripp Co. Extension
Sewing Camp, I was resigned to using masking tape to hem my shorts for the
culminating style show in the basement of Ranchers Bank. I’m sure Alice was so proud. A few years
later in Junior High, my dear Home Ed teacher Mrs. Young tried her very best to
show me the way also. . Lord, did she
try….. but despite her monstrous efforts, I was no seamstress.. )
We pressed, pinned, cut, and sewed our way
into the night. In fact, we worked so
late that the Senftner clan ended up spending the night sprawled all over the living room. (Which is exactly what
the boys were hoping for that day!) The wall hanging was gorgeous, and like
anything homemade, the time spent making it was even more beautiful. By the end
of the night, Janet had me believing I could make a quilt of my own someday. That’s
how awesome she was…she encouraged and supported everyone she met. And I loved
that about her.
Melissa called me last week and
said that Bailey wanted to have a crafting weekend at their house during the
pheasant opener. It was time to
resurrect the annual crafting day Janet had so loved. (And organized and made
happen…) As I’ve tried to explain to
those of you reading this, Janet did a lot of great things. Hundreds and thousands of good works…..but
her greatest work were the amazing humans she and Rod raised—Dustin, Weston,
and Bailey. Talented, handsome, beautiful, kind, funny, athletic…I could go on
and on, but you get the picture. Like
that catchy song from a few years ago, “Stacy’s Mom”—these kids “have got it
going on”.
I’ve always said we all become our
mothers. And in this very case, I called
it perfectly. Bailey is truly her mother’s
daughter, that lucky girl. Bailey just
spent the last six years living in Spearfish where she competed (brilliantly)
as BHSU Yellow Jacket student-athlete on the women’s basketball team. I remember seeing Janet’s joy and excitement
when Bailey chose to take her talents to BHSU.
Janet loved the Black Hills area…. Bailey does also. Bailey worked hard in both her classes and on
the court…. again following Janet’s example of hard work and dedication to the
task at hand. She battled back from a knee injury and bravely watched her
beautiful mother fight, but eventually lose, her own battle against that $%&* cancer.
Our dear Bailey has seen a lot in her short
life and yet her fierce, competitive spirit has carried her through many of these
difficult days. I know she misses her
dear mom….she is not alone, so many do. But
I want her to know how proud her mom would be of her efforts this weekend—and every
other day of her young life. Bailey was
building and organizing and making cider complete with cinnamon sticks stirrers for folks twice
her age. (When i was her age, I would have been handing out Goldfish crackers and warm Diet Cokes, IF I had remembered to buy them.) Bailey is special--in so many ways. She learned hospitality and grace growing up under Janet’s guidance and
it was so humbling to watch her lead this weekend just like Janet always did. The spirit of Janet, never far from her
family’s thoughts and hearts, was there this weekend. And I’m so glad I got to share a day of this
love and healing….and I’m so very proud of Bailey for all that she did to make
this a special weekend for some old(er) ladies who like her, really, really
miss her mom. You have been blessed with
so many amazing gifts dear Bailey…..but the grace and spirit you showed this
weekend had to make your angel mama so very proud. Thank you for wisely and gracefully showing
us how to remember and celebrate those we have lost way ahead of their time. You
are amazing. And you are going to do
amazing things with your nursing degree….so proud of you for chasing that
dream, too.
P.S. And telling us to cut up the flower
arrangement was a TOTAL Janet move….I could hear saying, “Heck yeah. Just cut one of those flowers off and use
it. I can get more.”
P.P.S. Love and miss you much Janet.
P.P.P.S. You can come back in the house now Rod. We’re gone! I promise. (But I’m guessing there is still some evidence of
our glorious creations in a few places. Tread carefully. )
