I think I will miss Davisville Road more than any other street in this area, not only because of its canopy of hardwoods and elegant homes, but because it includes Robert’s old workplace.
From time to time, I looked forward to picking Robert up from work because it gave us time for a brief visit.
It’s almost impossible to compare how I felt about Nonna with how our grands relate to us. They are distant at best, and in James’ case, hostile.
I looked forward to visits with Nonna, loved her apartment and Italian immigrant neighborhood.
Once following an especially bad arms-crossed falling out in Milton, I fled to Nonna’s apartment with baby Peter via public transportation. She was a safe haven for me, and I regret that our grands don’t feel the same way.