Mid-blink

I must have caught her in that split second where she was mid-blink. I don’t recall taking this photo on the weekend, but it was on my iPhone.

This is my third child. The one who could sit so still at the age of 3 that people thought she was a life-size doll. And two minutes later she would talk non-stop, making friends with random strangers, eating crayons and lipstick, discovering joy in learning how to light a match (then leaving the room to do some colouring while the house catches fire!). She is the only child of mine who can even come close to talking as much as my sister! She can argue politics and discuss history with my brother, knows more about composers and symphonies than I do, bakes incredible cakes and macarons, and could probably enter and win any cooking contest.

This split-second, mid-blink snapshot of her doesn’t say much. It doesn’t tell you anything of her struggles and triumphs or of the incredibly patient way she helps her husband through his struggles, or of how compassionate and understanding she is towards others. Without any context strangers wouldn’t even look twice at the photo, and would never discover the incredible person that she is.

Every person has context. Every person has come from somewhere, is growing, learning, becoming. What are we missing when we only see other mid-blink?