Madison at 12

 Dear Maddie,

You are 12.  You are my sunflower...You grew quietly and steadily, until one day I turned around, and there you were,  face beaming at the sun, towering and strong.  I love that you still allow me to cradle you in my lap, your long legs dangling over the side of the armchair.  I love that you still ask me to scratch your back every morning when I wake you.  I remember a time I could spread my fingers and span your entire back. No longer.  You are now a child in the body of a young woman.  

This year you have learned the difference between progress and perfection.  You are a star student and a fabulous volleyball player.  You make mistakes, but they don't define you.  You are crafty and creative, making all sorts of homemade goodies (candles, soaps, baked goods) for friends and teachers alike.  You are, according to Caleb, "the best sister ever," constantly encouraging your little brothers and praising their efforts.  You are quiet and thoughtful but also funny and clever.

This year we celebrated a lovely, albeit strange birthday with a few of your friends.  It was a special year for you.  We had just moved in the previous fall, so this year you had made some sweet friends and delighted in having them over.  We were blessed with a warm day for late October and held the party outside, distanced and wearing masks [thanks to Covid].  You and your friends raced around the neighborhood gathering the fun clues you'd left for the scavenger hunt.  Then we played outdoor games and had cupcakes and opened presents.  You were beaming.  And I was so very happy for you.

I know moves are hard for you.  You are discerning, taking your time to develop friendships, and when you do, they are special and lasting.  I'm glad you keep in touch with your best friend in KY,  and I know how much you miss her.  I'm sorry I haven't allowed you to fully express your feelings.  Things are changing.  There is room for big feelings in our home.  There is room for dissent.  All feelings are valued.  As Fred Rogers so wisely stated: "Whatever is mentionable is manageable."  

Thanks to my Covid breakdown, you have a different momma.  I'm hoping I can pass along to you some of the tools I fought to earn.  More importantly, I hope I can help you rewrite our family narrative so that it is more authentic.  It's okay to be a truth teller.  It's okay to tell me when I'm wrong, because I'm human, and I get it wrong...and that's how we grow.  Most of all, I hope that you can love you as much as I love you.  I hope you can learn the value of self-compassion because it will give you a capacity for grace that is otherwise impossible.  You are kind, you are intelligent, you are silly, you are funny, you are wise, you are strong, you are compassionate, you are generous, you are passionate, you are hard-working, you are creative, you are you, and you.are.precious.   I love you, Maddie-girl.  Happy 12th birthday.

Love,

Momma