I have been decluttering. The drawers, the closets, the cupboards.
And finally, the blog.
Last and least. But finally, done.
When I went to clean it up, it was in a woeful state. Apparently, I had long-since stopped actually seeing it.
Over Christmas break, I drove Caleb down to the DMV to get his driving learner's permit. Before he took the written exam the woman at the counter said he needed to take the eye test. She had him press his forehead against the machine and then said, "Read the second line."
Caleb was quiet.
"Read the second line."
More silence. He looked up at me. Confused.
"Just read the line," I said, helpfully.
He put his head back in the machine and pulled it out again. "It's blurry," he mouthed at me.
I said, "Just read it." I am nothing if not helpful.
He started tentatively reading.
The woman looked at me. "Are you his mother?"
"Um, he can't see."
"Yes he can."
"No, ma'am. He's reading numbers and there aren't any numbers on the line."
He looked at me and shook his head. He couldn't see anything. Too bad. I had such high hopes for that "Mother Of The Year Award" in 2013.
And I asked myself, all the way home, all the way to the optomistrist, how I missed something like that. Blindness, I mean. What else was I missing? It's staggering to consider. When we got to the car, Caleb admitted that the board was blurry at school, but that he was "managing."
I protested, "But you don't have to 'manage.' Just tell us and we'll help you."
In the days and weeks since he got his glasses, Caleb has commented that his vision has "deteriorated." David asked him what he meant. He said that now when he takes his glasses off he can hardly see, everything is blurry. Um, exactly. That's how it has always been and he just didn't know that the world could be different than that.
Was blind, but now I see.