Dealing with Alzheimer's brought an understanding to me of places that David felt comfortable in visiting.
Could even enjoy at times. One of my fondest memories is an errand routine that we would do once, sometimes twice a week. David loved this errand run and I enjoyed seeing him smile and feel confident, a stolen time when you are thrown into the confusion of this disease.
Today I managed to do the route.
First we drive to Delkin Dry Cleaners. A pure luxury that I decided meant far more than just time for me. David would love his shirts cleaned and pressed here. No starch, on hangers not folded. He trusted his ladies and they would flirt and compliment him. Their exchange was always wonderful and he would spark smiles with his sheer warmth and energy.
Today I took in some of his shirts, so that they are clean and pressed for, whenever. I spoke with Debbie, the manager and she shared her own story, that stunned me. Her own difficult loss, which I never knew about. I praised and thanked her for always being so welcoming and loving to David, especially during her own grief last year. People are amazing.
Next on the list is the library, right next door. David would carry my books and was immensely patient as I browsed the aisles on a search for something I had forgotten the name of. Eleven years ago, we had gone to this same library to email friends announcing our engagement as we did not have a computer at home. (That's right young people, computers were not a regular part of the furniture!)
Then a short drive into the village, passing our old home and straight for lunch at The Beach Plum Cafe.
This cafe exists in every book and movie that presents an intimate, yet classy village, where people know one another, practice yoga and appreciate home baked cookies. Well dressed tourists are welcome. David and I spent hours here with each visit, and boy we would make a mess on the tables! So much so, that I joked, with a question mark, when they introduced brown paper table coverings. The staff never bothered us. Were always patient and kind.
Often David would be recognized here and hugged for being a Silverstein, or for being simply David from some time when he taught, or dated, or the children went to school. Sometimes I admit, I felt jealous and mostly I felt out of place - I am so sorry for that wasted fact now.
From here we would sometimes pop into Village Hair Design. Or take the long scenic drive home across the bridge, breathing in the glorious sea air, perhaps stopping at Georges to buy some apples or a couple of long stemmed sunflowers.
Everything about David had such class and beauty. I miss him. I wasted the opportunities in being his wife.
I sit here now longing (begging) for a sign that he knows. Hoping that tomorrow I will wake up to find that it is August 9th 2002.
So my message within this post, is to appreciate those fond errand places that fill your daily lives. Perhaps one day they will represent landmarks and you'll sit and gaze at them, needing them to be as they were at some other time, when.