At Madison’s memorial, some of her friends got up to talk about their experiences. Some of their stories were funny, some were sad and some were a little crazy. All of the stories were told with love. She knew Sean the longest of all her friends, since they were 5 years old, they were like brother and sister. Madison and Sean shared the bond of being physically disabled. They understood the reality of physical pain, the fear of surgery and the emotional pain of not being able to do what other kids can. But as they got older Madison and Sean made great friends who did all they could to include them, and in Sean’s case they still do. The love that Madison’s friends feel for her is such a comfort. To know that people who loved her almost always surrounded her is a wonderful thing.
Sean told a funny story about Madison bopping him on the head when he would say certain things. I think he would say crazy stuff just to aggravate her, knowing she would give him a, “love tap,” that’s what he called it. After the memorial a former friend of mine came up to me and said, “Madison was a hitter, I didn’t know she was a hitter.” Of all the wonderful stories of love and kindness and acceptance, this woman latched on to that. I was stunned that she would say this to me, and in the tone that she did. It was that moment I wished I had Madison’s amazing ability to have the perfect comeback. Of coarse I didn’t quite know what to say, so I let it slide, but obviously it has bothered me ever since.
What would I say to this former friend now? “How dare you make assumptions about my daughter? You didn’t even know her.” I know, still not the perfect comeback, but I have decided her judgments don’t matter. We who were blessed to have known Madison, know that she was more than just a girl who gave one of her very best friends’ “love taps.” As her friends put on a special picture board, Madison was, “a totally awesome friend.”
