Oh Maxy boy, how has it been ten years already? So much has changed since the day I became your Mommy, but so many things are the same.

10 years later, when something wonderful happens, I am struck to my core with gratefulness that the path that led me here, to this life, began with knowing you.

10 years later, you are my moral compass whenever I’m not sure if I have what it takes to do the right but hard thing.

10 years later, when I need to calm myself, the memory I still conjure up is you crawling up my chest, clenching my finger, letting out a throaty little cry.

10 years later, when I can’t sleep, I wonder if I could have, should have done more, stayed with you more and never once taken my eyes off you all the days that you lived.

10 years later, I still wonder who you would have grown up to be, what would have been uniquely you, what from me and what from your Daddy.

Those things are the same and somehow after ten years I don’t think they’re going anywhere, but…there’s new stuff too.

I have a lot of love in my life again, a lot of joy. A husband who throws you a birthday party every year. Two beautifully spirited girls who call you their stepbrother, who make you birthday cards, who leave space for you in their family drawings, who wonder aloud if you would be taller than them or blonder than them, who when I call myself a Stepmother, remind me that I’m a Mom in my own right too.

I get to live in a beautiful place, Maxy. A place with magical animals, breathtaking views and an ancient history that just emanates from its ground. A place filled with people who value family and celebrate humanity in all its forms.  

Something makes me think that my life just might make another big turn this year. Just so you know, Grunt, I did notice your little signs and I did remember that dream the next morning. So here we are, back to what hasn’t changed – what has never, will never change is that when I’m walking towards my hopes and dreams, they are fully grounded in my love and respect for you.

Thank you, my precious, perfect son for your time with me and even in your absence now, for inspiring me to be better than I am and braver than I thought I could be.

Happy birthday my monkey,

Mom

I recently completed the game Death Stranding, which won’t be to everyone’s tastes, but I really loved.
There is one thing quite interesting about it though. Without going into the whole plot, it’s about the worlds of life and death getting intermingled so these ghost like figures start being on the earth.
In order to be able to sense these beings, people, including the main character Sam (as portrayed by Norman Reedus) wear BBs (Bridge Babies) on their suits. That’s because they say this is the age where they straddle between the world of the living and the dead. These bridge babies come from “still mothers” or mothers who are braindead, and, it specifically states in the game, they are taken out at about 28 weeks (which is true for Max as well). So, the BB-28 in the game reminded me a lot of Max!
They even look alike (though I think that’s true for most babies). It didn’t make me sad or anything, I actually liked it.

Good game. Will stick with me for a while.

The Leftovers on HBO ended up being one of my all-time favorite shows and the best meditation on grief I’ve seen in TV or movies.

The third and final season of it concentrated on the upcoming seven year anniversary of “The Sudden Departure”. The seven year anniversary has particular importance to various communities in the show, with a great importance put on that number. What will happen on the seventh year? Will everyone come back? Will another rapture happen?

Now it’s seven years for Max, too.

Does it get easier? Well, does what get easier? Life? No, no it doesn’t.

Things change. You change. The world changes. You make decisions. You move further down the path. New things, both sad and wonderful rise to the surface. But no matter the forks in the road, trace it back and it comes back to that fork. That change. That thing. No matter what happens ahead of that, it’s there and it will always be there.

Seven years later.

Five!

After five years I thought I’d know everything there was to know about the gifts Max brought into my life, yet each year I’ve continued to grow in new ways that tie back to those beautiful 16 days we had together.

2012 was all about resilience, 2013 about empathy. 2014 came and went and with it, the return of peace. In 2015, I got incredibly honest about what I wanted from life.

And yet, since Max’s last birthday I’ve realized yet another and it’s my favorite one of all…love. A capacity to love that I thought was reserved only for Max. A boldness to love completely: in spite of impermanence, in the face of uncertainty, and perhaps most importantly, without fear. If there were just one gift I could keep with me forever, this depth of love for my family and friends, old and new, would be enough.

Thank you, Maxy. I love you.

-Mom

Maxie baby could have been five today.

In some timelines, I’m sure he’s still around. I like that thought.

Happy birthday!

Some strange coincidences with Mad Max Fury Road.
A. It comes out right at Max’s 3 year Bday.
B. It’s awesome like Max.
C. When Max wore his mask in NICU, I compared him to Bain, played by Tom Hardy, who ended up playing Max.

And yes, watching Road Warrior on repeat in college is one reason I loved the name Max. The warrior Max.