Gift of Love

Max was never an easy child.  From birth, he seemed "wired" waving his little fists in the air as if conducting an orchestra only he could hear.  He had such exuberance... the perfect word for his enduring energy in all things.  Always high strung, Max could be the best of the best, and, the worst of the worst.  No middle of the road for my young man. In high school he made terrible choices and turned to alcohol, drugs and lying with the same exuberance he approached all things.  We lost control of him and, for a while, we lost him.  And ourselves.  For years, my life mission was to help my son. I threw myself into trying to "fix" my child.  I'd wake up saying "If only I could...." when of course, "I" could never be the one to fix Max.  But I didn't know that then and I threw myself into my role as the Mother who would change him with the same exuberance he had. There wasn't room in my life for much other than Max, worry and anticipation of the next crisis. After a year in a therapeutic boarding school Max transferred to a regular boarding school and graduated from high school with distinguished honors.  He worked so hard for the three years he lived away from us and seemed happier when he came home than he had been in a long time. He was accepted at Drexel University and received one of the highest athletic scholarships the school offered.  His freshman year at Drexel had its ups and downs. Max made new friends and his exuberance helped him standout on the lacrosse team. And then, on June 18, 2008, a week after he completed his freshman year, Max's bicycle accident occurred and our lives as we had known them were over.
Max has one sibling, his sister Alex.  Max was 2 when Alex was born and I'd like to be able to say he was a standout brother.  In fact, having Max as a brother was probably as challenging as it was having him as a son.  During the years before we sent Max to the therapeutic school, our home life was so chaotic.  The three of us were constantly trying to balance the life raft Max was intent on sinking.  As Max's troubles increased, so did the time I spent trying to fix.  I now know the term "co-dependent" which I certainly was.  Alex had always been the "good" one.  Good friends.  Good behavior.  Good grades.  Good girl.  And what did she get in return from me?  Less of my time and energy. Looking back, it hardly seems fair to Alex, but when there is crisis, the attention will always be there.  
I am writing this having just returned from a trip south to see Alex who is now a senior at college.  She started her freshman year two months after Max's passing.  Needless to say, her college "career" could have gone many ways given the circumstances.  I'm happy to say Alex is thriving at school.  She earned straight A's last semester and has been on the Dean's list all but one semester.  AND she works 25 hours a week to earn her spending money!  The three of us had a wonderful visit and I am so full of love for my daughter.  
So why have I called this journal "Gift of Love?"
Because I realize that in passing, Max set us free.  I can't believe I'm expressing this in words, but it's true. I am free from constant worries so I have time to discover who I am as a middle aged, recently retired woman.  Free to discover who my lovely daughter is as a young woman, what she dreams, how she thinks, what she likes. I am open to self-exploration in ways I never would have been before Max's passing.  Alex is free from carrying the weight of responsibility for her brother...covering for him...making excuses for the brother she loves with all her heart.  
And while I never would have chosen this path for my son, I realize that his circle while small, was complete.  He lived an extraordinary life and had such impact on others. His life, his exuberance was like a firework - a brilliant blaze of color and light.  And then it's gone.  Thank you Max for your gift of love.  For setting me free.