She was named after a city. Madison. Madison with a rattle, shaking as though her life depended on it. Madison, up on stage in a little pink tutu, dancing through thoroughly rehearsed choreography. Madison, learning to make waffles in the mornings. Madison, bringing her baby brother home from the hospital. Being excited at first and then regretting the decision to let her mother have another child. Madison teaching her brother how to make waffles. Madison, teaching him how to swim. “Madison”, her name being said at her eighth grade graduation. Madison, walking down the aisle with her baby brother, learning to let go. Madison, adapting to a life she never thought she would have to deal with. Becoming the responsible adult in the house because he mother had faded away. Madison, with a father who was never really there. Madison, feeling first love blossoming with Darren, the boy who used to chase her around the playground in pre-school. The throwing of blue caps into the sky. Madison, reaching down to pick hers back up and handing it over to her father, who then framed it. Madison, someone who was finally free, free of her parents, free of her haunted past. Madison, dealing with having to be away from the one she loved for four long years. Madison, finally graduating from “Yale” with top honors and a degree in journalism. Madison, her name appearing on her resume and being said as she got the job of her dreams at the New York Times. Madison, being enveloped in Darren’s arms and realizing he hadn’t changed at all. Madison, her name being said in vows declaring a mutual love. Madison Folsam, the name under “Maiden Name of Mother” on her daughter’s birth certificate. Madison, living every day to the fullest for the sake of her baby girl. Madison, a grandmother. Madison, being released from the hospital because she had a “false alarm”. Madison, saying goodnight to her husband, and never having to say good morning.