Writing for Maddie: A Journey of Healing, Reflection, and Love

I have been asked by a few individuals this week why I continue to write about my daughter, Madeline. Over the past twenty-one months, my reasons have been diverse and varied. Sometimes, it's because a certain event resonates deeply with me, and I feel compelled to share its significance in my life. Other times, it results from having a particularly difficult or wonderful day. There are moments when I write when my boys are not with me and moments when I write because they are so close. Writing stems from a sense of obligation at times, but mostly, it is an avenue for me to express my true feelings. While I occasionally write for others, the majority of the time, I write for myself. Writing sometimes flows effortlessly, while it requires more effort on other occasions.

In truth, hardly a moment goes by in a day when Madeline is not on my mind or stirring up emotions within me. When I write, it becomes my dedicated time for her. Although she gets less time with me compared to the boys, in a sense, she is always present. I sit down and commit to writing without taking many breaks. Writing enhances my memories of Maddie, making them more vivid. As the boys continue to grow, she remains timeless. I never want to forget, and I never want to lose the familiarity of her face, her laughter, or her remarkable sense of humour. Some of her past mischievous acts may have once made me angry, but now they bring a smile to my face.

Writing allows me to feel grateful for Maddie. I cherish the time we had together and reflect on how much she taught me about being a father, a friend, and showing compassion. So many valuable lessons packed into such a short life.

I hope that through my writing, people come to understand the significant impact Maddie has left behind. She has brought awareness to a rarely discussed subject. She has inspired others to seek help and support. She has taught us to look out for one another, to have each other's backs, and to prioritize doing what is right over what is popular.

Additionally, I write for Maddie's friends. Many of them rapidly grow into beautiful, respectful, and compassionate young adults. They hold warm and loving memories of Maddie, often sharing stories of her wild and outrageous nature. She was adored, and that adoration lives on in their hearts. They continue to be tremendous ambassadors for The Maddie Project, advocating for youth mental illness. Through Maddie's friends, I catch a glimpse of her present-day image.

I write for the sake of my boys as well. They usually read and critique every blog post before I publish them. Their responses range from "That's really good, Dad" to "That's one of my favourites." Sometimes, they don't say anything at all, but we exchange a look—a slightly upturned lip and a glance downward. That unspoken understanding signifies their silent consent. Maddie will always remain an important and integral part of our family.

Throughout any given week, I am approached by numerous individuals who have been touched by mental illness in some way. It could be someone reaching out about a family member, a friend, or even themselves. Some are desperate, confused, seeking answers, or offering advice. Some have experienced positive outcomes, while others have faced tragic circumstances. Some just want to express their thoughts and prayers for our family and for Maddie. Among them are friends, but many are complete strangers. Some are also bereaved individuals who have lost a child, a sibling, or another loved one. And some simply want to say thank you for sharing a glimpse into my world and allowing them to understand how I'm doing.

In April, we will approach the second "Angelversary" for Maddie. I am often asked, "How am I doing?" and "Does it get any easier?" It's not that it gets easier, but it becomes different. This feeling is challenging to articulate, and only a parent who has gone through a similar tragedy can truly understand it.