This room did not happen overnight. It took me a long time to begin to transform what was a bare and institutional feeling space into what it is today.
What does it feel like when I walk into my husband’s room in a residence where he has been living now for over two years?
Believe it or not it feels okay as I cross the threshold into Aristides’ Alzheimer’s world. It’s like entering a place that is safe, a room that is now his home, and mine too.
When it’s time to leave (I never use the good-bye word) Hugo jumps off the bed, I gather up what may need to be taken home, give my husband a kiss and let him know I’ll be back very soon. I put on some music and make sure he has things to play with in front of him. I begin to walk down a long hallway toward the elevator. “Elevator Hugo.” Words that signal we’re leaving Arisitdes’ world behind.