It was so hard to read. The sun was reflecting on my pages. But if I changed angles, it would have been right in my eyes. It was one of the first truly warm and beautiful weekends Seattle had seen in a while. The week had been a blur of scanning in photographs, coordinating family guests, and consoling my Mom. Not to mention just barely beginning to grieve for my Dad. I may never have the framework for grief, but I do know it was oto early at that point to even know what I was feeling.
I went out on Brad's balcony and sat back in one of our anti-gravity chairs. A marketing gimmick, for sure. It does not make me feel weightless. It does, however, deploy my weight in a even way that feels good from neck to heels. The weight of the prior week helped.
I couldn't read any more. My eyes were crossing themselves and the words all blurred on the page. I wrapped my sweater around my head, to avoid sun burn. And I slept.
Seattle does not always make it conducive to sleep in the sunshine. There is usually a breeze that chills the sunniest of days. It's a rare week in August that you can really bask and feel comfortable.
I was in heaven. Brad was practicing saxaphone in his place and I was sleeping.
One of the best naps of my life.