Madison, my daughter, has a gift for writing notes. Not the kind that will get you in trouble at school — the kind that will make you smile, the kind that will make you feel loved. Writing notes is one of her preferred ways to express her love for us.
We have a dresser in the hallway right outside her door. The dresser is filled with towels, but when I pass the dresser in the morning it’s not really a towel that I’m looking for but a note from Madison.
Often, right before she goes to sleep, Madison will write a note and leave it on that dresser. The note will say something like “Mom, wake me up early” or “Mom, thanks for being a great softball coach” or “Dad, thanks for helping me with my project.‚Äù Sometimes the notes express her heart as she apologizes for something she said or did.
I love getting those notes. I love the fact that she has an outlet to express herself.
Yesterday, I got an elaborate three page note from Madison as she shared with me some things I had done recently to help some people. She talked about how I was her hero and how special I was to her. She talked about wanting to grow up and be just like me.
I’m happy and thrilled and humbled and somewhat intimidated that Madison would want to grow up and be like me. What really needs to happen is for me to grow up and be more like her.
