Saturday, August 26, 2017

A Letter to My Story...


August 26, 2017
Dear Madison Joan,                      

You are My Story, Madison, because I have demanded that.  But you are 
My Daughter 
first and foremost, whether The Story or not.

This year through the 16 days that would’ve been the days you lived, I have had so many different emotions.  Oh, the usual ones are there, of course:  

dreadful anticipation,
crushing chest sadness,
dizzy with too many thoughts too many times per second,
waiting for each day to be over, wishing they would last forever,
pit-in-your-stomach scared - I’m not sure of what - but constant immense fear,
vicious wonder,
contemptuous rebellion,
the bottomless empty,
and so on,

But in addition, this year, I have been strangely awaiting your Sweet 16 next year.  I don’t know why, but it looms in my head since I began thinking of your 15th.  Is it because 16 is such a special time for a girl? Is it because there is no way it could be that long and that short all at once? No, that’s how it feels all the time.  

My hopes for myself this year are two.  One, that I don’t torture myself for the whole year dreading 16, which will come whether I dread it heavily or just the same.  And two, that you all remember My Madison's name once this year as a gift to me in her memory.

So that’s it.  I don’t have the answers.  
My Daughter, I am putting your name out there again in memory of the day you died, Madison Joan Friel, August 10-26, 2002.

Love always,

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