Coop's Corner: Dream Project

Sunday, March 31, 2019

Dream Project

Mom's Assisted Living facility, Potter Ridge, held their Dream Project Ceremony yesterday, a wonderful conclusion to a huge project and effort by the staff, residents, family and importantly, the sponsors and donors to the project. Well attended, a lovely spring afternoon for everyone to gather, award and for the residents to be awarded their Dream Wishes.

There were many dreams requested with the attempt to fulfill carried forward. A Hot Air Balloon Ride that you were introduced a few blog Posts ago was something that will happen once the weather is fit for open air flight. There was Lorraine's request to once again visit the historic Sheldon Theater in Red Wing, a place she'd visited, not returned to since she was a teenager and as she herself mentioned, that was a long time ago. Still, my favorite request of them all was Bill's hope to visit a cattle auction at the nearby Zumbrota Livestock Sales Barn, something I've done and would certainly enjoy doing again. I don't know Bill but I'm certain that we could be friends.

There were some valiant and gracious Dreams being completed, done with the efforts, support and help from many.

A lot to be thankful for.

I stopped by Friday evening to drop some of mom's things off before Saturday's program when the many festive decorations were not yet in place.

Saturday afternoon, the program almost ready to begin....

Many of the younger residents on this side of the open stairway; those more senior were closer to the front. I'm talking +/- a year or two from 100....that's plus 100!

When mom's turn came, Paige called us both to the front. The 'cook' books were still in their only VERY recently received shipping box and beautifully wrapped with ribbon. I know that mom was surprised in more than one way. I'd given her every reason to believe that this was going to be a spiral bound, open-flat type of cookbook, filled with TBSP, Cups and "stir's..". What was created was instead something more akin to "Mom's Story", a very quick look at mom's beginnings, a few experiences with at least a small thread connecting everything with food, meals shared and some stories that were part of it all. Easily enough many volumes of information to fill a real book, this one just hinting at a tome, a nicely condensed overview, hopefully filled with the love and respect that was involved with its creation. There are in fact recipes, stories about how some of them came to be and to be enjoyed, photos and family history that I hope isn't forgotten....at least for awhile. Discussions and memories from myself and between mom's siblings still with us bubbled to the top over the last few weeks; that in itself was a treasure, bringing a bunch of new life into stories that had grown old.

The black was very intentional, my hope to present a scrapbook-like feel since that's where a great deal of the content came from and has been hiding for a very long time.

Dad and mom around 1985 if I had to guess....and I'm going to because that's close enough.

Many thanks to Potter Ridge, the Dream Team staff and to Ms. Mueller for her gracious contribution!

8 comments:

motormikeMarch 31, 2019 at 6:01 PM
Yer a good man Mr. C.
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redlegsridesMarch 31, 2019 at 6:08 PM
What a good son.
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Speed BumpMarch 31, 2019 at 7:23 PM
What a neat idea.. We all need our dreams. I bet your
Mom was surprised!
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Dar March 31, 2019 at 11:24 PM
What a lovely idea. We all need dreams no matter how old or young.
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)