There is so much I want to share about Max’s life and legacy
and I intend on continuing to share about him for the rest of my life. His nearly 7 years were full of so many
remarkable stories, from the medical challenges and scares he overcame to the adventures
and experiences we shared as a family.
But, as I have only a few minutes with all of you today, what I want to
share right now is three lessons Max taught me that have changed who I am and
that exemplify the lasting impact his precious life has had.
The first thing that Max taught me was that Extraordinary things
are waiting when we let go of our ordinary dreams. People that know me well know I am a
planner. I love to plan things and then
I love things to go according to my plan.
Going into motherhood I read every book, contemplated every decision and
was captivated by my own beautiful picture of what life would be like with my
boy girl twins. When Max’s water broke 9
weeks early and a series of discovered medical conditions resulted in 8 months
spent in the NICU, I started to realize my plans were inadequate. I continued to persevere thinking I could
just sketch in a few new additions to my existing picture. I would draw in a little dialysis machine or
two, pencil in some hearing aids and a wheelchair, erase a kidney here and
there and redraw them. I thought I could
squeeze it all in and still have my picture of a beautifully ordinary planned
life. It took me a couple years and a
whole lot of holidays spent in the hospital and new diagnoses to finally
realize that I needed to stop editing the picture I had and instead start with
a blank canvas and paint from scratch this life we were living. When I finaly accepted that, I saw that in
place of my ordinary plans, God had given us an extraordinary family. Max’s pure spirit and infectious smile and
love were more beautiful blessings than I had ever planned for. Max’s life was an extraordinary gift that
exceeded my plans and dreams. At this
moment, so soon after we have lost our precious gift, I’m staring into the
future and once again the plans and ideas I had for it have changed. But, Max taught me to embrace a blank canvas
and trust God to paint something beautiful on it and I know that his legacy
will ensure this next chapter continues to be extraordinary.
The second lesson that Max taught me is that true Strength is
the ability to bless others, regardless of our circumstances. The most remarkable memories I will carry of
Max are when he would be in the hospital and he would smile and laugh at every
person who came up to his bedside. He
would grin and endear the nurses, never holding it against them that they had
to stick him or get blood pressures checked.
Max did not just endure his trials, he smiled and blessed others
throughout each one. None of us who had
the privedge of caring for Max will look back and remember what he needed from
us- we’ll only remember what he gave- joy on dark days, smiles when tears would
have been understandable and selfless love that never expected to be returned
but of course always was. Before I had
Max and Addie, I had never truly had to be strong. I had a wonderful childhood, fell in love and
married my first love and had been blessed with good health and great family
and friends. Trials had been few, and
probably largely self inflicted, and my resilience had gone untested. From day one, Max taught me how to be
strong. During the most difficult few
years of my own life, he led by example.
When I would veer into self pity territory, he would flash me a smile
that reminded me that if he could be okay with this, I had to be as well. When I felt overwhelmed and questioned how I
could handle the responsibilities we had, his calm faith in me reminded me I
would do anything for him and his sister.
And when I would head off to work after hard days or nights and wonder
how I would be able to smile and put on a brave face, his constant smile and
love to all around him served as my example.
Max taught me not just to endure difficult days, he taught me to continue
to smile and love others during them.
As I face now a sadness that even these last 7 years could not have
prepared me for, I draw upon the strength my son taught me to face the world
with a smile and to continue to try and share Max’s love and joy with my
family, friends and students.
Lastly, I wanted to share that the final lesson that Max
taught me is that the only ability we need is the ability to love. Prior to having special needs kids, I tended
to feel that certain abilities were crucial to my happiness. Being able to walk and talk were a given,
enjoying food was an essential pleasure in life, being able to read and write
and maintain friendships were necessary to my every day life. When Max and Addie were 6 months old and the
doctors told us they likely had profound hearing loss, I was devastated. I cried many tears because I could not fathom
life without music and conversation and questioned if they would be able to
enjoy life as fully without these things.
When the neurologist first told us about the extent of Max’s cerebral
palsy, I once more was shaken and heartbroken because I worried Max’s
disabilities would mean he would not be able to have a happy enough life. But, I need not have worried because Max
exuded a joy every single day that surpassed my own. He took delight in every simple thing- he
enjoyed the mobile that hung over his bed every day of his life. He found watching Addie scatter every toy in
our home across the living room most entertaining. He watched her favorite shows time after time
and smiled and chuckled at the same parts each time. And he loved his family like crazy. Any time you made eye contact with him, his
face would beam. He loved being held, he
loved being talked to and made everyone around him happier. Max had the ability to love. He loved his family, he loved life and he
loved things we so easily take for granted.
And in the end, that ability to love was the only one ability that
mattered for him to have the fullest of lives.
Teaching me that our abilities matter far more than disabilities is one
of the most important gifts Max could have left me with. As most of you know, Max’s twin sister Addie
has non-verbal autism and also has a compicated medical history. I sometimes think if I had not been Max’s
mom also and had only been Addie’s, I would have struggled so much more with
her challenges. I could have been very
upset by her lack of verbal language and grieved her atypical journey. But Max taught me to see beyond the cannots
and embrace every can. I look at Addie
and I see all that she can do and her amazing abilities. I rejoice in her running around because Max
reminded me that is something to never take for granted. Her ability to communicate with an ipad is such
a blessing and her joyful high energy unique zest for life is contagious. I am able to treasure Addie exactly as she is
and am able to be a strong mom who will fight for her and see always the best
in her because God gave her exactly the brother she needed. In his 7 years on Earth, Max molded me into
the mom his sister will need for a lifetime.
I know this only touches the surface of what Max has done for
me. But I cling to these dearly and know
that I carry Max with me every day. I
hope Max that you will be proud when you look down and see me abandoning my
ordinary dreams trusting God for an extraordinary path. That you will smile with me when I choose to
give joy to others, even when this new phase of life is hard. And that even as you do now have the ability
to run and sing in heaven, that you’ll always remember the most beautiful
ability you have is your ability to love and that will forever live on in our
hearts until we see you again.
2 comments:
So beuatiful, Stephanie. Without saying a word Max changed the world.
Your message is so inspiring - thank you so much, Stephanie! The past few weeks my prayers to God have been, "Take me, Lord, not our Max." However, God had different plans and is now watching Max run around heaven, talk to everyone he meets and, of course, always smiling. Your beautiful message now gives me the strength to continue on. I love you. Grandma Jean
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