We stepped off the elevator and looked down. Seattle’s Space Needle has an observation deck with a glass floor near the top of the structure. Through it, we clearly saw the ground below…500 feet below. Heights don’t usually bother me, but when I noticed the floor under me wasn’t stationary, my stomach gave a lurch. Tammie announced, “The top of the space needle turns 360 degrees in an hour.” I nodded to indicate I’d heard her. Agnes nonchalantly walked away from us across the glass floor to get a good spot to look out over the city.

Rejoining us, Agnes commented, “Isn’t there supposed to be a restaurant up here?”

Trying hard to remember what I’d read about the space needle, I squinted as though trying to reread the article from a distance, “I think there were two restaurants. They were closed a few years ago so the space could be remodeled and opened in the future as one big restaurant.”

My daughter, sister and I had arrived in Seattle less than 24 hours earlier. Since then, we made good use of our time by exploring the neighborhood around our bungalow, attending Mass at a nearby church, shopping and finding a wonderful restaurant where we had a relaxing meal. Since today was a Sunday, one of Agnes’ sons and his wife who lived thirty miles east of Seattle, had come to spend the afternoon with us.

I had visited the Seattle Space Needle in 2000 with my late husband Arnie, and Tammie. So many changes had been made to this area that the only thing recognizable to me was the Space Needle, which had been built in 1962 for the world fair held in Seattle that year. All the restaurants, hotels, flower-lined sidewalks, gift shops and the Chihuly Garden and Glass were new to me. The carnival atmosphere that afternoon was supported by food stands selling unusual treats, and a street entertainer playing an electric violin for money thrown into his instrument case.

One of the most important, must-stop-to-visit places at the Seattle Center is the Chihuly Garden and Glass display. Dale Chihuly was born and raised in the state of Washington. While in college for interior design, he became enamored with glass blowing. After returning from studying abroad in 1966, Dale was given a full scholarship for glass blowing at the University of Madison, Wisconsin. His complex, beautifully crafted creations filled several rooms. Stepping out into the garden that surrounded the building, his hand-blown glass sculptures were nestled among the flowers, which had been purposely planted in coordinating colors.

We took many pictures of the art, and of each other, wanting to permanently capture the lovely sunny afternoon spent with family members we don’t see as often as we would like. Like a sundial, the shadow of the Seattle Space Needle slowly marked the hours as they passed.

Finally, it was time for us to go our separate ways. As we slowly trudged back to where Tammie parked the rental car, I asked her, “Would it bother you to eat in a restaurant at the top of a revolving tower?”

She thought for a minute before pointing out, “The restaurant would turn slowly, so it wouldn’t make me sick. You wouldn’t even notice it was turning if you weren’t looking out the window.”

I harumphed, “It would be hard to not look out any of the windows while sitting up there, not to mention silly. If I couldn’t get myself to look, then I shouldn’t bother going there. It would be better to eat at a garden level restaurant on a side street.”

Tammie chuckled, “Oh, Mom!”

Grinning, I announced, “The Space Needle is a famous landmark. Everything on the menu would surely cost a lot. I can’t even begin to imagine what a meal up there would cost. Forget about the rotating floor. I’m sure that the one thing that would make my tummy upset if I ever dined at the Space Needle restaurant, would be the prices!”