When the kid first started kindergarten, she developed an eye twitch. Her dad and I didn’t know about it at first, because she didn’t do it at home. The teachers let us know what was going on, and at some point we got to see it by stopping by the school. She looked like someone or something was about to hit her face. It was that protective reflex, a kind of recoiling. We called it the Blinkies.
After some talking and watching, we discovered that she was worried that no one would care or take care of her if she got hurt. Her teacher and the teacher’s aide worked to reassure her and soon the Blinkies were gone.
Just now, lying on the couch while the kid bustles around packing and sorting for her move on Saturday, I realized that I was blinking a lot. I have the Blinkies!
It’s like I’m at the top of one of those Vermont mountains not knowing what I will find when I drive up and over. Mud, dirt, hairpin curves, or a smooth glide down.
Change is coming at me fast. Right at my face. In the blink of an eye.