Meant-to-Be Moment

Almost every weekday afternoon, I follow almost the same routine.

With morning projects pretty much completed and a need for a break, I go outside and announce, "Biscuit Time . . . Biscuit Time . . . come on; it's Biscuit Time." 

Five dogs race from wherever they happen to be to this particular finish line---inside their dog run.

Todd always goes inside the shelter while the others sit politely in a circle around me as I open the lid to a jar sitting atop the shelter and then hand out biscuits.  

Every day I think that I need to teach Kea not to grab so exuberantly----one of these days my fingers may go inside her mouth along with the biscuit.  

So far, fingers are okay. 

Then, it's a "see ya later," and I grab my purse, my cell phone, etc. and head for town.

Almost every single day one stop before going to visit my mother includes the Sand Creek Conoco where purchasing a French Roast coffee and maybe a chocolate bar also involves a little banter back and forth with the clerks.  

Nice bunch of folks in there.

Yesterday I had a couple of errands in town, so I drove past the Conoco station, stopped for a second at Co-Op where Joe told me he picked 120 gallons of huckleberries last year.

A good double check because I had remembered 129 from a conversation several weeks ago.  No, Joe said, I picked 120 and sold 124.  I pressed no further to find out who picked the extra four gallons.

After all, my story is completed, 12 words over count and now at the fact-checking segment. 

Then, it was on to town to tell Fiddlin' Red I would not be coming to my lesson on Thursday at 1 p.m. cuz the ZAGS are playing at the same time. 

Red was closed, so I moved on to the next small errand:  to see if there are plug-ins at The Cedar Street Bridge Cafe so I can bring my laptop one day this week and do an interview.

I went around the block twice, looking for a parking spot.  On my first trip, I spotted John Pucci walking into Vanderford's.  

Ah, another person on my interview list; I'll track him down and find out when he's available for some questions about his 40-plus years of working at Schweitzer.  

That done, a second trip around the block indicated no close parking spots to The Bridge.

So, I drove on, thinking how nice it would be on this afternoon to do something completely different.  After all, I already had a good start.

I turned on to 5th Avenue and the "something" was there on the left.  I've been wanting to try out Kokanee Coffee, I thought; today's a good day. 

Pulling into the parking lot, parking and then walking through the door, I was instantly amazed with the crowd gathered there.  Someone said "hi" to my right. 

It was Lodi, one of my favorite substitutes from Sandpoint High and once a resident in the old North Boyer neighborhood.  She was visiting with Andy's mom.

That's when my "meant-to-be-moment" began.  First, they told me about the weekly programs for discussion at this relatively new and lovely coffee and baked goods gathering spot.  

As they talked, I looked around at all the exquisite metal art and spotted a few familiar faces among the clientele.  

During our conversation, Lodi took me under her wing, showed me the art and introduced me to Angela, the owner.  She also bought me a cup of coffee; at Kokanee, I'll be drinking the rusty hook blend, thank you.  Lot like French roast, my afternoon favorite. 

Also, I did a little catching up with Andy's mom.  I always feel a tinge of sadness whenever I see her, but she always makes me feel good about how she's doing since her wonderful son died in an accident a few years ago.

Andy was one of my PAL Z at Sandpoint High School  "Peer Assisted Liai Zons" promoted a positive student atmosphere.  The group numbered about a dozen students representing all walks of life at our school.

Andy represented himself:  kind, helpful, willing to go the extra mile for anyone, any time, friendly, you-name-it.  All that was good--that was Andy.

So, Andy's loss much too soon in life left a void in all who knew him.  His parents, however, found ways for Andy and his memory to live on.

First, his mom showed me a set of color pictures of the magnificent garden sanctuary they have developed in Andy's honor.  And, it is truly magnificent, with a host of beautiful perennials, iron gates, walls and, yes, a stone monument with Andy's name.

"I still need to get up there and see it," I told her.  

"Yes, you do," she agreed.  

Later, however, she shared with me a story which made the magnificent garden seem almost secondary.

She had spoken at the past weekly talks at Kokanee Coffee, which focused on organ donations.  Andy's body was donated to this program.

In yesterday's conversation with her, I learned about people who gained sight and a man who received a lung, enabling him to live on to see graduations, marriages and to care for a parent.

Four generations were affected by that one donation, Andy's mom told me. 

The list went on.  All I could think while listening to her add even more examples was that Andy lives on in so many ways.  

His parents obviously gain strength from his loss from the knowledge of all the good that has benefitted others from their personal tragedy.

Yesterday afternoon's departure from the usual routine surely led to a "meant-to-be" moment which will stay with me for a long, long time. 

Plus, I'm figuring I'll make more stops in the future for a rusty hook blend and some of those yummy looking baked goods. 

Happy Tuesday, and if you want to know more about Kokanee Coffee, you can visit their blog at www.kokaneecoffee.blogspot.com.