I’ve been meaning to write a post about Madeline Spohr for a long time. If you don’t know Maddie’s story you can read about it at her mother’s blog The Spohrs Are Multiplying. I highly recommend it, her mother, Heather, is a wonderful writer. You would be hard pressed to find a more engaging set of blog archives to read.
When you do go there you will read about how Maddie was born eleven weeks premature, and that it was a miracle of modern medicine, hard work, and love that she came home at all. You’ll read about an amazing little girl rallying through repeated hospital stays, defying all odds until the odds were in her favor, all while still being just a little girl. Then you’ll read how Heather and her husband Mike lived every parent’s worst nightmare when Maddie suddenly passed away on April 7th of this year.
When Maddie passed, it had a tremendous impact on me. I’m still not sure why. It’s something I’ve been trying to figure out for six months. Maybe it’s because I “knew” Heather. (Saying you know someone because you follow them on Twitter is kind of like saying you know someone because you saw them in a movie.) Or maybe it’s because I followed along in real time as Maddie’s condition worsened during those last few days.
Or maybe it’s because it reminded me how lucky I am to have moments like the one in this photograph. It’s from Caroline’s second birthday. I found it while I was trying to figure out what to say here.

I know, from experience, that Caroline, Thomas, Liz, or I could be gone in a moment. I know that every moment we have together really is a gift. That we should be grateful for all of the moments that we have had. So maybe that’s what it was.
Maybe.
Or maybe it’s because Maddie is just one of those kids. You know, those kids that we parents like to pretend are just like everyone else’s kids, just like our kids, but really aren’t. Those kids with the extra twinkle in their eyes, the extra teeter in their toddle, that extra spark in their spirit. When I look at photographs of Maddie, or see her in a video, that’s what I see. She’s the kind of kid you hope wants to be friends with your kid. The kind of kid that you hope will come to your kid’s birthday party. The kind of kid that you dance a little jig when you see her name on an invite your kid has brought home. She’s even the kind of kid you tell your son to keep an eye on for the next ten years or so, because hey, you never know, she might think dinosaurs are cool too.
I don’t know. It’s probably all of those things. And more. But whatever it is, I just want to say, happy birthday Maddie. I hope you’re having ice cream cake today. Every little girl should have ice cream cake on her second birthday.


9 Comments
Ben, this is wonderful. Yes, you’re right about that twinkle…such a special little girl, missed by so many.
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“The kind of kid that you dance a little jig when you see her name on an invite your kid has brought home”
You are so right. She is so missed.
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that was beautiful. what a tribute to maddie that so many of us bloggers are remembering her today and always.
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Beautiful post my friend. Sigh. Yeah, she was that kid. I’d never quite put my finger on it, but you definitely did.
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You have such a good heart B. You are blessed with a healthy loving family and know how precious that is. I’m blessed to have you all in my life :)
I’m sure Heather appreciates how everyone continues to remember her Maddie.
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Beautiful. Just Beautiful. As always.
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What a beautiful post. An amazing tribute to an amazing little angel.
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beautifully written. beautiful little angel.
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I watched the video and you’re right, what a little angel. Happy Birthday, Maddie
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