The place I am staying was quiet when I arrived and no one was around. A key was left for me at the front door in a white envelope. Wine was poured in carafes, waiting for those who were checking in. I poured a glass of red and took my things upstairs to my room. Not really having any direction, I saw some bikes and decided to ride around the little town. When Jerry and I were here last, we had only come for the day. We didn’t ride bikes nor participate in many things. I felt guilty that I had “forced” him to come. But I thought he would like riding the ferry and seeing the island. I didn’t understand his reluctance. It was his dementia. Jerry was well into the late middle stages of Alzheimer's Disease at the time. We had continued to live life in our new normal. But, I guess I didn’t realize how trying new things caused such insecurity.

All these things are processing in me now. His insecurities and why he acted so reluctant. Now, riding through the town, alone, I am reluctant too. Don’t know why. I suppose it’s because I’m the one who is insecure.

For some reason, I wanted to go the same restaurant where we had had lunch two years ago. The Dajio is charming with the freshest meals and folk musicians playing. I asked to sit outside on the patio. From the patio, I had a view through the french glass doors of the white table clothed room where Jerry and I had eaten that day. It was a safe distance. I remember we were served white wine, fresh spinach wraps and homemade sweet potato chips. I made a painting of those wraps. Tonight, I had mahi over jasmine rice on a turquoise blue plate and pretended to have conversation on my cell phone. Felt pretty stupid, but the waiter was nice.