Funny how certain things trigger memories.
Between 9am and 11am the sun streams through the windows in the living room, and hits my recliner – and me, when I’m in it – just so. It’s easy to get quite hot just from the direct sunlight at this time, in this place, especially with the windows closed so no breeze takes the edge off.
A year ago, I had developed a pattern. William would go to sleep for one of his many newborn naps, often in the swing directly in front of my recliner, sometime during this time. And I would stretch out in my recliner and soak in the sun, trying to take from it the same life-giving energy that plants soak up, merely by being in it’s presence.
Sometimes I managed to doze off in the warm glow.
Sometimes I merely wished to sleep whilst all the while anxiously waiting for the boy to wake up and start the cycle over, and simultaneously wishing he would just stay asleep, just a little bit longer.
Always, the time was too short.
Always, I felt like I was taking a single gasping breath whilst drowning in the ocean, before being barreled back under the waves.
Now, though, it’s just sunlight streaming in through the window… and highlighting the echoes of memories.
What a difference a year makes.