Our Max

I knew when I woke up this morning that today would be the day I would finally blog. I love capturing my life and especially those I love with pictures and memories here. And so today I write about Max.


Ten years ago Randy and I gathered with Leanne's parents and some of our children in La Jolla to await Max's birth. We were at the hospital for over 12 hours before we heard his first squeal from the hall outside the delivery room. Every grandparent knows that the birth of that first grandchild is as exciting as the birth of your own first child (but less painful).

I adored everything about Max from the first moment I held him. I remember walking along the beach with him asleep in my arms a week after he was born and feeling so happy and full of love. A few days later I remember gathering with the Francis family in Ryan and Leanne's small apartment at Wind and Sea where Ryan gave Max a name and a blessing. Max wore the same outfit his dad had been blessed in.

That first year of Max's life we drove from Orange to San Diego two or three times every month to be with him and his parents. We literally entertained ourselves by sitting around him and watching him play. Everything he did was magical and we cheered him on like he was the most amazing kid ever born.

We gathered with friends and family for his first birthday party at a park in San Diego. Leanne had made the most creative fish cake and all of us watched expectantly as she placed it in front of him. He took one look at it and burst into tears. Something about that eye staring up at him was terrifying and he never would eat a gold fish cracker that had an eye.

About the time Max turned one, his parents went on a get-a-way and left him with Papa and me. They had been trying to get him to walk but he just refused to take off on his own. Soon after Ryan and Leanne walked out the door, Randy and Jason and I were sitting in our family room visiting while Max played. We looked up as he turned around, let go of the ottoman and walked across the room. From that moment on he walked everywhere and out to the driveway to meet his parents when they returned home a few days later.

It seemed like Max had just started walking when he began riding a skateboard with his little helmet on. He loved the beach and grew up playing in the sand and water.

As soon as he began to talk we were all convinced he was a genius. And I'm pretty sure he was. His memory of people and places was phenomenal as was his ability to communicate with adults from an early age.One day his parents were quizzing him on the real name of his grandparents. Looking at pictures he identified Nana as Diane, Papa Mike as Mike, Papa Randy as Randy, but when he got to my picture he proclaimed "That's Grammy Ice Cream Cone" and the name has stuck.

The most difficult thing about moving from California to New York was leaving Max, our only grandchild at the time. We missed seeing him more than anyone because he was changing and growing day to day. We traveled West often to spend time with him and our children. I think during his 10 years of life I only missed being at one birthday celebration.

Within the year after we left California Abby was born and other grandchildren followed. Each one came with their own personality and gifts and each one found a special place in my heart. Through the years we have gathered often and spent countless hours playing in the sand at the beach, eating at Ruby's on the pier and Taco Mesa, watching the skateboarders in Ryan's backyard or swimming in the pool. We have gathered for weddings, holidays and family reunions from Montauk to Ventura to Idaho to the Outer Banks. We have been to Disneyland, Lego Land and I am so thankful for the time spent and memories created with my kids and grand kids.

The first Christmas we were in New York, all of our children came to celebrate the holiday. It snowed and I have a happy memory of playing in the snow with Max and riding a sled down the long slope of our driveway with him in my arms. He and his family came to visit us several times since we have been in New York. He loved to dress up in the costumes he would discover in the basement. He liked to walk the bike path and on at least two occasions found a snake.

As Max grew he became a wonderful friend and leader to his younger cousins. How they looked up to him. They argued over who got to sit by him in the car or at the dinner table. They wanted to be like Max who loved pirates and Star Wars and Legos. Each one thought that they were his favorite. That's just the way Max made you feel. The final day of Max's life his cousins gathered on the steps of the lake house and chanted "Max Max Max" in anticipation of his arrival.



Max was a superb student in school and a leader in his classroom and among his peers. He loved to read and could be found lying in his bed late into the night reading his latest adventure. He loved music and had the confidence to sing karaoke with the adults and play guitar or drums on the Wi Rock Band. He took piano lessons and would download music from the Internet and play by ear. He played the violin and was planning to learn to play the guitar.

He loved to assemble the most advanced Lego kits and saved his money to buy the latest new product. He began to design his own creations and had ambition to someday be a designer for Lego.

Max loved people! And they loved him! Adults and children alike! He used to call me and Papa and talk and talk about what he had been doing. Even as he grew older he was never embarrassed to give us a big hug and kiss. That is the last memory I have of Max....bounding down the hill towards me and hugging and kissing me before he ran off to play on the lake with his cousins.

One of Heavenly Father's tender mercies to me was the opportunity to go out to California and stay with Max and his sisters twice this year. I loved spending time with the kids and remember playing lots of board games, going to the movies and eating frozen yogurt, walking to church together, playing at the park and at the beach, playing handball in the driveway and reading books on the lawn of their elementary school.

One Saturday morning while I was watching them, Max told me he had arranged to meet his friends in downtown Oceanside at the street fair. They had plans to play their violins on the street with open cases to make some money. I initially resisted since we had plans to meet Nathan and Megan's family at the beach but I could tell how much it meant to him so I relented. Of course the friends never showed up but Max was undeterred. He sat down in front of the fountain at the Library, opened his case and played for about a half hour while those passing by admired his talent and threw money into his open case.


Max loved every day and often proclaimed it to be the"Best Day of His Life". He did everything was such enthusiasm. Leanne created a magical childhood environment for him and his sisters. At the Beach House he didn't walk down the stairs, he slid down on a big slide. The playroom was the scene of a grand puppet theatre where Max and the girls could demonstrate their creativity by putting on shows for all of their guests. The bathroom was a pirate's den complete with a hanging skeleton.

At his latest home, his bedroom was a magical scene. His high canopied bed was accessed by a motorized chair and he had everything he needed to organize his thousands of Legos and books and treasures. He liked to ride bikes and had recently attended "Surf Camp" where he took 1st place. He was so proud and was just beginning to enjoy the surf with his Dad. The day of his accident he was so excited to be there at the lake with everyone and to play in the water on the tubes and water weenie.


Max was possibly the most loving person I have yet met in this life. His love was uncomplicated and unconditional and he was very patient and very kind to his sisters and always respectful to his parents. I remember dropping him off and picking him up at school and watching him walk with Abby to and from her class each day. If the Primary children were singing in church he would lead Charlie to the stand and sing with his arm around her. He was openly affectionate with everyone and exuberantly greeted you as if you were his favorite.




For his memorial service we ask family and friends to share their memories of Max. The outpouring of affection for him was just another evidence of the kind of person he was.
He was an example to me of how to live and love, a gift to all who knew him during his short life and I believe he was an angel among us. Even in his passing he and his courageous family have taught us how to live and love. I will be forever grateful for this precious boy and look forward to my joyous reunion with him someday. I love you Max.