Maddie

When I was introduced to the world of blogging only a few short months ago, I was hesitant. Mostly because I didn't know what it was all about. But soon enough, I was hooked, and now I cannot live without it.

It's become more a part of me than peanut butter on a spoon.

Blogging, and the blogosphere (that means you!) has become very important to me, and for so many reasons. It's my way of venting, of being creative, of getting back into the writing groove, of having some fun, and of expanding my horizons.

But maybe most importantly, blogging has allowed me to meet so many wonderful people I would never have otherwise met. The entire world fits in my back pocket now, and although there are things about today's focus on technology and lack of face-to-face contact that I don't particularly like, overall I think it's a great thing.

It can also be a very sad thing, because all of a sudden, you get to know people and their intimate lives, and you get to know them on such a level that would never be possible otherwise. And when something awful happens to them, it breaks your heart.

I was sitting in the office last night, reading over some of little Maddie's mom's posts, and I was crying. Here is another little child who will never know what it's like to go on a first date, to go to school, to live a full life. Maddie Spohr passed away unexpectedly about a week ago. And many people had already spoken of it on their sites, so I didn't. But I grieved, and wished there was something someone could do to bring this little girl back.

I am now talking about it because of how it has hit me so very hard, and unexpectedly so. And again, the effect surprises me, because really, I don't know Maddie and her family. Probably will never meet them. But that doesn't seem to matter, because I now realize we are all the same. We're all in this thing called "life" together, and we are all connected by an invisible thread called humanity.

This is a little girl who had a very rough start to her life, and almost didn't make it. But she did. And she thrived, and blossomed into a beautiful, happy, amazing person.

As I sat here last night, watching a video of her life, I cried. I watched small bits of her short time here on earth, and was reminded once again of how fleeting life can be, and how we take the smallest moments for granted, and really shouldn't. And I for one should know that, and I do, but I still take advantage of the fact that my children are both thriving, healthy, and happy, and I still find that I would often love to hide from them because they can be so intense.

As I'm watching Maddie's video, Em comes into the office and whispers "good night" in my ear as she heads off to bed. I missed giving her a hug, but I did wish her a good night. Moments later, Dee makes his way into the office, and he's sleepwalking, all sleepy-eyed and drowsy, and he leans over and kisses me lightly on the cheek and mumbles something before heading back out again. It wasn't lost on me that he found me in his sleep, and kissed me. Unconscious love.

I then once again realize how very very fortunate I am. How many times does one need reminding?

When I climb into bed, Dee is asleep on my pillow. And instead of waking him up and making him go back to his room, I gently move him over and lie beside him, and cuddle him, and just feel so lucky.