Max

a birthday and a goodbye

Riggins turned 10 on Monday. I’m so grateful for every day I get with that boy. After his cancer diagnosis last winter, even more so. But it was a bittersweet birthday this year. In the early morning hours of the 13th, my sister’s sweet boy Max left us. 

Maxie was the greatest of Great Danes. I’ve never known a dog with as much presence—and not just because of his size. But because of his singular Max-ness. He slipped through the air like sharks glide through water—his black and white cow spots catching the light, making him almost iridescent. 

Baby Max and Riggs

Early morning kisses

Lately, he’d taken to coming over in the morning for a drink from Riggs bowl. I’d pat his tall back and he’d lean hard against my leg. I’d give him a forehead kiss, and off he’d go to have his breakfast. He was the best of boys. 

He loved car rides. He LOVED the beach. He loved his mama and papa. He was a sensitive soul, our boy. He felt and sensed things deeply—it was one of my favorite things about him. When his brother Bailey died a few years back, he howled when they took Bailey’s body from the house. 

Max and Bailey

I could totally relate. I choked back the howl in my own throat when we carried him out Monday morning. To say it feels strange to be here without him is an understatement. His absence is a haunting.

I am a striation of necessary heartbreak— my own, my sister’s, my brother-in-law’s. And I can feel the slight shiver beneath the fault lines of things to come. Death will surface whenever it decides to, I know this. There’s no real preparation for it—I know this too. I was with my nephew in December when the essence of him left his broken body, and I was with Maxie just after he left his. Both swirled through me like an appalling surprise. 

I walked through the desert this morning to see what last night’s storm had damaged, and the earth offered this advice: 

Love harder and with defenseless urgency— the beauty of a life always remains. 

I gave Riggs his traditional birthday cheeseburger with a heart grateful for more time with him, and a heart heavy from losing Max. Life continues to leave a multitude of emotion in its wake. I continue to learn to honor them all with as much grace as I can muster. It’s going about as well as you’d expect. 

Maxie’s collar said ‘Lucky Dog’, but I know full well we’re the lucky ones. Heaven on earth is a life spent in the company of a dog. Several if you’re lucky. Which makes us in this household, the luckiest.

I hope you’re in the great getaway van, sweet boy. Head out the window, unlimited snacks in the cup holder, on your way to some eternal beach— beloved and free.  

We miss you. 
Maxie forever. 
🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤

PS Thank you sissy and Tom for sharing part of that boys life with me. I’ll carry it always.