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In a Blink of an Eye

Time Flies When You're Having Fun

By Mark Stackpole

g. She expresses her likes and dislikes through a series of smiles, grunts and squeals. Her little personality is beginning to assert itself.

In the last half-decade, I have apparently blinked only five times. Between blinks and behind my eyes, I am busy trying to hang onto each day in much the same way that I would try to grab running water. Those pesky laws of physics dictate that each will slip away, or rush by, regardless of my care and diligence. I take pictures, shoot video and do my best to commit her childhood to memory. While these are cherished keepsakes, it is the time with her that is the real gift. I have watched a lot of special occasions through an unblinking camera lens, missing the actual moments in order to record them so that I would not forget them. Seems a rather vicious circle, no?

In my head, and against my will, I find that I have played out the next several years already. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that I am not the 50-year-old father of a girl in her late teens. My fear is that the timeline, and our life together, will continue to pass by in a series of blinks:

BLINK: Corinne goes off to kindergarten.

BLINK: Joe Doakes asks Corinne to the senior prom. Of course, I do not think that he is good enough for her, but everyone tells me that he is a nice boy and that I should give him a break. Reluctantly, I agree. Still, if she is not home by curfew, there will be trouble. And God help Joe if he treats my daughter wrong.

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