Closure and hanging the Ladies

Yesterday was the viewing and funeral for Max.  JoAnn and I were very happy with how well everything turned out.  Mind you this was a very daunting task to plan a funeral suitable for Max.  Some interesting things have been happening. 

Max wanted to make sure the dogs realized his passing.  I had to make special arrangements for a viewing just for the dogs.  Saturday morning I walk into the funeral home with a little dog under my arm and being towed by a big dog.  Max's dog Tara, did her normal sniff sniff, but then wanted to jump in with him.  I then picked up big dog (all 90+ pounds) so he could see him.  That dog is too darn smart.  He looked, sniffed, paused, and licked my face; he was done.  That night, Big Dog (Zip) was crying all night.  He has bad arthritis and I got up to make sure he was comfortable.  His arthritis was no different than any other night.  When I got up to feed him in the morning he jumped down from the bed and walked to the kitchen like normal. He has stopped sitting by the front door waiting for Max to come home.  Closure comes in many forms I guess.

Max's viewing was the beginning.  Max's family all sitting around reflecting while some music I put together from Max's collection was playing.  About a year ago, Max turned to me and said, "I want this song played at my funeral."  I replied, "Isn't it a little early to be planning the music selections?"  He said, "Just make sure they play it."  Max and his psychic abilities--too numerous to describe, too creepy to remember some.  Anyway, the night before I burned the CD making sure I'll Fly Away by Alison Krause was toward the end.  I included some other songs from his father's funeral were in there too.

During the viewing, everyone is sitting there and a Norah Jones song starts playing and WHAM!  no lights, no power.  Now mind you there are two candles burning so it is not completely dark.  Interestingly enough no one panicked.  The funeral director worked the problem and 3 more times the power went out.  I was thinking someone hit a power line or they are doing more construction work on the road and hit something.  Later, the director tells JoAnn they have 3 back up generators to avoid this problem--in his 15 years he had never seen this before.  I guess Max did not want that song played or him and his dad are having a good time with us already!

The mass went with no hitches.  The singer was outstanding, the priest hit on so many of Max's qualities without truly knowing him (just what JoAnn and myself could come up with).  We finished with lunch at another Italian restaurant (my Italian heritage says we must eat our grief away!)  Almost all the out of towners that drove in left after lunch.  This morning I took the last group to the airport.  So now I reflect with the dogs!

Events like this really open your eyes to your surroundings.  I begun to  examine some of the projects Max had started and trying to decide the best result.  For example, because of the kitchen fiasco (that he so graciously took care of for me), we never really got anything settled in.  I was reviewing his other blog and reflected.  Max has a ton of art.  Some of it quite good and some is, shall we say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  Max had this eye for extremes.  Those of you that met Max would totally understand my descriptions.  Old paintings of women, next to modern designs, next to surrealists, next to photography...eclectic just does not capture his taste, but Max always made it come together in a tasteful, eye catching arrangement.  The problem is that with the construction right after we moved in, he never had the chance to hang his art.  A few pieces are up, but a majority still remain wrapped awaiting discovery.  Max did explain how he wanted certain rooms and I agree with almost all his choices.  I just now have to draw on Max to give me inspiration for how to hang his "Ladies".

Mike

Comments

[Terry Wilkins]

Dear Mike-
Thank you for the update about Max's funeral. I have been thinking of all of you and wondering when the funeral would be. The story about the dogs was so touching. Leave it to Max to make a statement in a big way at the funeral home...no lights, no power. It's hard to believe that he's gone from us. I was so looking forward to seeing him again on my next trip to DC next month. We had talked about it the last time I talked to him in September. I had hoped to "beat the clock", but it was not to be. Peace and comfort to you, Mike. God bless! I feel like I know you, through Max, and hope that sometime we will meet.

[Felicia]

It's been eight days since I've heard the news. Eight days of bewilderment and absentmindedness as I struggle through each day trying not to let my thoughts wander to Max. I haven't cried and I haven't prayed in any of that time. I haven't sent my condolences through comments on the blog. I haven't made time to give my mind over to a great loss.

Today I read about the dogs saying goodbye to someone irreplaceable in their lives. After I read that, then the tears started to fall. I know what those four legged creatures meant to him. Thank you Mike for sharing this experience with me and all others who loved him. Thank you Max for being part of my life.

[avril]

What about Uma Kitty? Max always joked that Uma was incidental (she begs to differ) but I know he loved her and took the best care of Her Fatness. I can only imagine trying to haul her squalling self to a funeral home....when Max and I lived at Ansley Court (in Macon), each room had a theme. He decorated my old, high-ceilinged bedroom in a smoky taupey mauve and christened it "The Frenchwoman's Bedroom" after a beautiful, out of print book he had given me for my birthday one year (and in which he had written on the inside leaf: "Dearest April~
For the Frenchwoman in me and in all of us. Happy Birthday! Love Max" still cracks me up) Anyway, the living room was called "Gertrude Stein's Paris Apartment" because we had painted the walls French yellow or Cowslip 4 and he had done an entire wall of women's portraits from floor to ceiling. It was gorgeous and people never failed to comment on it. He gave me one of the oils of the women a few years ago and I am trying to collect my own wall of women now, although I just don't have his touch. One of so many things I will miss about my dearest friend.

[Bonnie (Boy George Girl)]

Mike, thanks for the update. I'm glad that Max's service was nice. I can't imagine why he would turn the lights out during the Norah Jones song. He loved her! Maybe it was just for drama- you know Max! Tee hee!

I feel bad for the animals; they were so attached to him. But I'm glad that they got to "say" goodbye.

It is so hard to think about Max being gone. However, I am sooooo glad that I ever knew him,and I just have to count that blessing. I am planning on having a margarita tonight, so I will toast to Max.

[Kathy]

Thank you Mike for sharing such beautiful stories. I see Max's hand in everything and his love. To want even his beloved animals the opportunity to say goodbye was totally Max. I think we can all thank you for carrying out his last wishes. And why is it I can see him standing by a switch, throwing it and laughing.

Somehow I think you need not worry. The rooms will come together and perhaps you'll know if Max is pleased if the lights stay on or go out. Please take care of yourself and give the dogs a hug from the MSC Library staff.

We love you here Mike, for taking such good care of our dear friend and colleague and should you be passing by, please stop in to see us.

[Lynn]

Mike,
Thank you for sharing the details about the services for Max. I know how he loved those dogs for I too am a dog lover and we shared many chats about how wondeful four-legged friends are. Thank you for your courage and strength and for taking care of Max. I will miss him.

[VaxGirl]

How very touching to hear about the dogs. I'd never thought about that, but I can see it's a wonderful idea. Thanks for continuing to share these things with us.

[Nancy]

Dear Mike,

I recently stumbled onto Max's website through the Knitters' Tattoo site. I followed the link of Max's tattoos because I'm currently teaching a knitting class that has three men registered for it and I'm looking for resources for them.

Much to my great sadness, I also read of Max's recent passing. I generally don't write to blog owners, but I just had to write in response to your observations about Max's care and passing.

I want to thank you for maintaining the blog so that his story could be shared. And it made me consider the true power of our wired(-less) age. You have crafted a beautiful tribute to this wonderful man.

Many blessings upon you and yours.

Nancy Cardona
LaTejanaFria@yahoo.com

[Li_B]

Thanks, Mike. Keep us posted on how things are going. It is so disheartening when a blog suddenly ends. I appreciate your keeping it, and Max, alive.
Li

[LynnH]

I'm so sorry for your loss. I've had too many myself, and words fail me. Hugs to all.

[LynnH]

I posted a blog entry today, a little thanks to Max. It's at http://colorjoy.com/weblog/archives/001160.html if you would like to read it.

[Rachael]

I was just strolling my knitter's tattoo gallery, and saw Max's tattoo and had to hop over here to send you light and love and tell you you're still thought of, Mike. Hope you are feeling strong. Know that people think of you and Max. Thanks for keeping this blog up online.

[Morgan]

Mike,

We have not met, I did not know Max. I discovered Max's site from the knitters tattoo gallery. I have been reading the entries from both You and Max and am touched by the words and the love that come from the words written. Thank you so much for sharing.

[Keith Brown]

AS Max's 42nd birthday came and past Sepetember 16th, I have a heavy heart wishing I had him here to remind him that he was older than me. As I approach 40 myself, I wonder what it might feel to outlive a good friend...gotta make it to 41 I guess. It's so weird...I've lost grandparents and realtives alike, but none has affected me as much as losing this very close friend and long time roommate. Not being able to talk on the phone is the hardest. And I suppose that one day this website will be dismantled and I won't be able to have even this. Max, I miss you so much.

[Betsy]

Max, you still pop into my thoughts from time to time. I just wanted to drop a note and say "hi." It's hard to believe that three years have passed now. You may be gone, but you're definitely not forgotten!

[Rachael]

Sending thoughts your way, Mike. Cari remembered Max today ( http://fromutopia.com/?p=3424 )and I wanted to say I do remember, and miss him. xo