A girlfriend recently told me she had a nightmare about a child passing away. She didn’t recognize the child or parents, but she was there with them and felt their grief as if it was her own. She said when she woke, she was overcome with emotion until reality came to the rescue, reminding her it was just a dream. How I wish that would happen to me. What I’d give to wake up from this nightmare, to let relief overtake me as I hold all three of my sons and squeeze my curly-headed one extra tight. I want to wake up. I want to wake up. I want to wake up.
I see Max every now and again when I sleep, but I always know it’s temporary and I’m frantic and desperate as I hold him and stare at him, praying I can make the dream last longer. It’s been more than 16 months and I’m unable to reconcile our loss. Anger and devastation are threaded throughout my days, part of my essence now, it seems. Their constant presence makes me miss not just Max, but myself. The Keri I was before wasn’t consumed by anger or devastation, rather gratitude, happiness, so much enthusiasm and hope. I look for that Keri every day, but the search can be exhausting. Life requires an effort it never did before and I’m tired. Dan, our boys and our family and friends certainly make me happy, but that happiness flips on a dime. Grief works that way. It’s an exhausting adversary.
As someone who is not comfortable sharing her pain so publicly, I reveal this with the hope that anyone who reads it will understand, maybe even empathize. We all as parents share the “worst nightmare” scenario. Now, having lived through it, I can tell you it’s so much more painful than you could possibly fathom. And you don’t want to hear that, I know. Maybe you want me to say we’re doing great, we’re healing, and the pain gets easier as days go by. I could lie and say that, sure.
When we’re asked how we’re doing, we debate what answer we should give. We don’t want to depress people, we don’t want to render them speechless or make a situation awkward – although, we feel extremely awkward most of the time. Losing Max changed us completely. We don’t socialize the same, we don’t pray the same, we don’t think the same. We try our best, for the sake of each other and our precious boys, but, oh God, what we’ve lost. Our oldest son, our beautiful Maximus, the one who made us parents, the one who turned the ordinary into magic, the big brother who adored his “Goo” and Beau - he’s gone, and we’ll never feel whole again. We had it all. I’m so glad we always knew it.
The idea to start a foundation was born from Dan’s idea to have a golf tournament for Max. He pitched the idea to me a couple years ago actually, when Max was still here. Dan’s worked in the golf industry for years and thought a tournament would be a great way to honor our boy and give back. We never imagined we’d be organizing tournaments in his memory.
I said no to the tournament multiple times last year, because, honestly, I couldn’t see past my grief to do much of anything, let alone help organize a big event. But I finally realized the tournament was a way for Dan to channel his grief and to do something for Max. I knew I needed to get on board.
Dan and the PGA Georgia Section worked together seamlessly on millions of tournament details, while I worked away to legally create the foundation. It was exhausting work for both me and Dan. He has a very demanding job and was tacking on many extra hours for the tournament planning. I had to learn all about the 501(c)(3) application and fill out mounds of paperwork, which I absolutely hated, and do a bunch of other administrative tasks…build a Web site, set up the banking, etc. It was all extremely difficult to do. It was hard to challenge my brain to focus amid deep desolation. Dan and I both battled with the decision to do the tournament up to the very day of the tournament. Is it just too soon? Are we putting ourselves through too much? Will it be worth it?
I’m so grateful to say that, yes, it was absolutely worth it. The tournament pulled in around $40,000. For the major role they played in organizing the event, the PGA Georgia Section took a percentage for the children’s charities they support, and we were left with nearly $30,000 to combine with our online donations. We’ve been blown away by the support we’ve received through our Web site. It’s such an encouragement to see friends, family and even strangers supporting our mission to assist the special needs community. Each donation feels like an arm wrapped around our shoulders, reminding us to keep going. And we will.
2018 Review
Our first four months were remarkable – truly, our expectations were surpassed. We wish our supporters could join us every time we give to our beneficiaries. We take the obligatory picture with the big check and we’re grateful to do so, but we always remember that we represent many and none of this would be possible without their contributions.
Here’s a rundown of the ways the Maximus Janton Foundation gave back in November and December 2018.
· We donated $2,000 to FOCUS & Fragile Kids, an organization that provides comfort and hope to special needs families through social events, support groups and fun programs, like Camp Hollywood, the summer camp our Max attended in July 2017.
· We donated $8,000 and established the Maximus Janton Scholarship Fund for special needs students with The Music Class, a program that provides music classes for infants to 7-year-olds in Georgia and beyond. Max and I attended The Music Class together and I continued with my younger two boys. It’s an amazing program that holds a lot of dear memories for us. It was an honor to give to them and we’ve been so grateful to hear from a couple of the scholarship recipients.
· We donated $20,000 to the Northside Hospital-Forsyth NICU Miracle Babies Foundation. This program provides financial aid for families with unexpected and/or extended NICU stays. We spent Max’s first precious month of life in this NICU. It is a sacred place to us and supporting them in this way was a full circle moment.
· We partnered with All About Kids Therapy Services on a book drive to benefit Babies Can’t Wait Clients. The BCW program usually evaluates over 300 kids a year and, between our purchases and a mass collection, we gathered over 350 books within a month.
· We provided Christmas for the Starks, a family comprised of five special needs siblings. We fulfilled the wish lists for all five of them, purchased a few surprises for their dad, Will Stark, and paid for Christmas dinner. What a heart-warming experience.
Thank you so much to everyone who supported the Maximus Janton Foundation in 2018. This venture is a labor of love for us, but, as I said at the tournament, it is also, of course, a labor of sadness. We are determined to keep pushing through our grief to champion a cause that means so much to our family. We will always identify as special needs parents and if you are one, you know there is a profound difference between typical and special needs parenting. We know the struggles, we know the emotions and we know the innumerable glories. It is so important to us to support this community and to do so in Max’s name. We pray his name travels far and wide and that this foundation flourishes for years to come – that Max’s adoring brothers will take over one day, continue to share his legacy and serve the special needs community.
We are focused on making 2019 a successful year for the foundation. We hope you’ll stay tuned as we share upcoming events and giving opportunities. We will be sharing the date for this year’s Friends FORE Max Janton Golf Classic soon. In the meantime, please know your donations are so very appreciated. Whether you give because you love our Max, or you believe in our cause, or anything in between, we are grateful and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.