It’s always nerve-racking to plan a big event, hoping people will show up - and what a relief when they do! We have hosted three golf tournaments now (our fourth is October 4th) and I still get emotional each year to see so many golfers driving onto the course. I had no idea what to expect with a 5k…in the heat of July, no less. Would people come? I wanted to host a 5k because we have great relationships with schools, the hospital, local families, and businesses – I wanted an event that would appeal to all of them. That said, not everyone loves 5ks, so I added live music, games, food trucks, and vendor booths to cast a wider net.
It was an enormous amount of work, and absolutely worth it. We had nearly 300 5k registrants (in-person and virtual combined), 500+ in attendance for the night, and we raised just shy of $11,000. Best of all, truly, were the interactions we had with the community and the gift of sharing Max’s name and the foundation’s mission with them. That is what I hoped for most of all. Even after the event, the heartwarming moments continued. Like days later, when I received an e-mail from a 5k participant who wrote that she attended because she remembered seeing Max years ago at a therapy clinic. Her son was also a patient there and, though we never spoke, she saw Max regularly and remembered him these years later. What that means to me, you can’t imagine.
Many attendees at Max’s Moon Run knew Max personally. His teachers, nurses, even his best little buddy from school, Ollie, were there. They loved Max then, they love him still, and I love them for that. There were also many new friends in attendance who never met Max. Some people participated because they have a special needs family member they wanted to honor, some came to support our family, and some came because they love to run 5ks. I’m so grateful for each and every one of them. In my mind, they were all there for Max.
Songs by Mumford & Sons, Max’s favorite band, were played and neon glow necklaces illuminated the crowd. It was a cloudy night that led way to a huge storm late in the evening, but all reports said there was a full moon tucked beyond what we could see. I was happy to read that. The smell of tangy barbecue wafted in the air, and little sticky mouths were stained by Kona Ice treats. There was laughter, music, and fun at every turn - the best kind of chaos- and I know Max would have loved it.
The truth is, I never wanted to host the 5k on Max’s birthday. That was the only availability we shared with the City of Suwanee, so, after some hemming and hawing, I said yes, because I very badly wanted to host this awesome event, which was canceled in 2020 because of COVID.
For the past few years on Max’s birthday, July 24th, I’ve allowed myself to lean into my pain, sink into our memories, sleep in his bed, watch the videos I can’t often bear, bury my face in the clothes still folded in his drawers. I let grief overcome me because the battle is futile.
I do try to create a simple celebration each year on Max’s birthday, which is important for my husband and I, but especially for our other two sons. It’s a heavy day when the dam breaks and every emotion flows freely. It’s the exact opposite of every other day when I feel obliged to hold it together in front of others. I knew if I hosted an event on Max’s birthday, I’d be too busy to slow down and think about him as much as I’d like to and need to. I worried what the ramifications of that would be. What will happen when the adrenaline fades and the weight of grief remains, I wondered. Nearly a month later, I know. I feel depleted, hollow even. I don’t regret hosting this event, but I will not host another on his birthday. Though I always carry Max with me, I’ve yet to have a day since the 5k that I can designate as my day with him, when I can succumb to all that aches and focus on him alone. For some people that might be best…stay busy, keep moving. But for me, I can only outrun the pain for so long before I have to take a knee. I need time, however I can get it, to spend with my oldest boy. I especially need his birthday.
One of my other sons struggled a bit throughout the night of Max’s Moon Run. He’s a sensitive soul and I know so much of his emotion stems from not having Max here with him. His questions and thoughts about Max are always profound and heartbreaking. Max is always on his mind, even at the most random moments, and even more so, of course, at an event in Max’s honor. As the band sang “Happy Birthday” to Max, Dan and I held our little boys in our arms. I was holding the more sensitive of the two when, through his sadness, his sweaty head on my shoulder, he sang every word of “Happy Birthday” to his big brother. It was precious and devastating.
My beautiful, joyful, curly-headed firstborn, the leader of my little pack, would be 10 years old. I can easily imagine his smile and the wonder in his eyes over all those candles. I can see his hands in the air and hear his voice request “more” as we play his favorite songs. No doubt I would have planned a grand celebration. Turns out, I did anyway.
Acknowledgments:
I would like to give a special thanks to Amy Doherty and her team at the City of Suwanee for all their help.
Thank you so much to Whitney Huynh for your beautiful pictures.
I would also like to thank Ryan Moore and his band, The Upside.
Thank you to all the food vendors: Kona Ice, Sweet Dee Links, 5 Finger Philly, Printice’s BBQ, and Southern Grace.
Thank you to AlignLife, Just 4 Running, and Rob Goldsmith and his team at FundRacers.
Thank you to Max’s grandmother, Debbie Hughes, for manning the foundation booth all night and asking for months how you could help. Thank you to Aunt Nancy Barnes and Max’s other grandmother, Pat Cowan, for helping Debs out.
Thank you so much to all the friends who volunteered. I took a bossy turn and you were all so forgiving. Thank you.
Thank you to all the virtual registrants.
Thank you to our awesome sponsors: Tony the Bearded Builder, the Self Family, Northside Hospital, The Suburban Stitch, The Kyle Pease Foundation, Jeyaram & Associates, GloWorm Golf, and Chick-Fil-A Moore Road.
Thank you to Mint Juleps for being there in more ways than one.
Thank you to Nikki Adair for creating the most precious graphics for this event and everything else I do.
Thank you to our friends from various seasons of our lives for showing up. It was overwhelming to see you all in one place. Thank you.
Thank you to the new faces who joined us. I had the pleasure of meeting many of you and hearing why you chose to attend. I’m incredibly grateful that you chose to spend your evening with us as we honored our boy.