I had just arrived to Vero Beach, Fl when I started to feel a dreadful feeling. I was in an Uber driving from the airport to Anna's family's condo. It was around 10:30pm my time so (8:30pm Max's time). So, nothing had even happened yet. I don't think it was a premonition of any kind, but I will note I texted George at 10:20pm and said “Yeah i am tired but I have like a dreadful feeling. Like I wanna die”. Maybe the universe was giving me a taste of the feeling I would get to know all too well. We arrived at the condo around 11:30pm. It had been a 12 hour travel day for myself, so Anna and I hung out on the porch for a minute then went to bed. We talked about my life on the porch and I shared with her how depressed I had been feeling that night. Which lead into a discussion on how depressed I had been feeling in general lately, I had just gotten off my medication though, so I knew I was having some withdrawal. We talked about how I should sign up for counseling and how this was our year to better our mental health. I had just been reading a book on the plane called, “Try Softer”, which was a guided counseling book. It had been really helpful at that point and I was feeling positive about my budding friendship with Anna, the future, and looking forward to trying to heal some of my unhealthy relationships with the world and myself. I went to bed, still with a sad feeling, maybe I was just tired or felt like I wanted to be with George. But I was on vacation, at the beach(!), why am I so sad? Anyways, I fell asleep pretty quickly, around 1am I am guessing, according to my texts with George I was in bed by 11:50pm. I woke up to Gus calling me on Snapchat, I looked at the time and I think it was about 3:30am. I wondered why in the world he was calling me this late, so I turned my phone off then went back to sleep. I think it was around 5:55am when my dad called me. (According to Jeff's records he called me at 4:05am and I called him back at 6:38am). I missed the call but looked at my phone and saw that Lana had texted me at 2:53am saying “Max was in an accident, please call me”. I'm not sure how I didn't see the text when Gus called me earlier. Anyways, I saw that text and already knew it was Max who was hurt. So, I jumped out of my bed into the hallway and called my dad back. He answered and I said “What's up, what's going on?” He kept it together for all of two seconds, got the words out, then I could hear him falling apart.

All I remember from the phone conversation was him telling me Max was in an accident and the doctors said he's not going to make it. “He's not going to make it”. My immediate response was to start saying “no, no, no , no” over and over. Sobbing.“Not max. Not max. Please God not Max”. I could hear my dad on the other side of the phone repeating “I'm so sorry baby, I'm so sorry”. My dad had never called me baby before, it was an inclination of how this was not my life, I didn't recognize this situation. I had awoken into a nightmare. After that, my body went into shock and derealization. I laid on the couch and started doing a combination of yelling and sobbing. I wasn't sure if my dad was even still on the phone. I think he had to be because once I calmed down a bit we had a conversation about me getting on a plane to Denver. I faintly remember, while I was losing it on the couch, hearing my dad sob from the other side. At this point, Anna woke up and came out. I didn't remember this, but based on her retelling of the story, I just looked at her and said “Max died last night”. She just grabbed me and held me while I continued to cry. I remember feeling that self-aware nudge from my brain “You're creating quite the scene in someone else's house”, the other part of my brain immediately shot back “Who the FUCK cares”. And I continued sobbing loudly. After what felt like a few moments, I pulled it together to figure out next steps. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that I would be headed either to Denver or back home immediately. So, I think either my dad was still on the phone or we recalled each other. But he said they were at the airport on their way to Denver, so I said I would book a ticket and be on my way. I don't remember the rest of that phone call. Next thing I remember is me going back to my room and booking a ticket. My hands were so shakey that I could barely book the ticket. According to my emails, I booked it by 7:09am. I think by this point George had been told by my dad, and I was probably on the phone with George. I remember telling him I couldn't get my hands to work and booking the ticket wasn't working. Then we talked about him booking a ticket, too, because I knew I would need him there. After that, I texted my friends Aubrey and Lindsey because I wasn't all that comfortable with Anna yet and felt like I needed my closer friends. I texted them at 7:49am, telling them my brother died. In fact I said it to them in such a strange way, that now I look back and think WTF. But they have both talked about their fears of their brothers taking their own lives. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have such an amazing brother who I wouldn't ever have to worry about killing himself. So, yeah, the irony got me that morning. They both immediately called me and I think I talked to them for a half hour or so. Not even sure why I talked to them at that point, I was just feeling really sad and alone. Anna was in the other room telling her parents what was happening. I went out to the living room to face Anna's parents, I didn't really know what else to do. Her mom, Cindy, hugged me for a long time while I cried on her shoulder. I didn't even know this woman but she became a serious comfort. She was crying with me, and told me her brother died in a car accident when she was 27. She told me she wished she could take it away for me, take away the pain. I don't remember much else other than trying to eat a bagel and orange juice. The drive back to the airport was about an hour and a half so we left around 8:30am. I cried most of the way while Cindy tried asking me questions about my life. I was wondering why she was doing that. Maybe to keep me from entering into a place of no return, knowing I had to stay functional for the next several hours. I was on the phone with Gus at some point during the car ride. We just sat in silence mostly. They were at the airport in Chicago I believe. I remember thinking that I couldn't imagine what that morning must have looked like for Gus, my sweet little brother. Thrown into such a horrible nightmare, he must be absolutely out of his mind in shock and confusion. Probably how we all felt, honestly. I know we talked on the phone earlier around 8:30 am based on my texts, but I have no recollection of that phone call.

I got to the airport around 10:40am, said goodbye to Anna and Cindy, and headed in to check my bags. I don't remember a lot from the airport, except I knew I needed to stay focused, even though my brain was on another planet. I couldn't rely on anyone to take me through security and the gate, I had to take care of myself. I was in the security line sobbing. Nobody asked if I was okay, I wondered if I would ask if someone was okay. I kind of wanted someone to ask so that I could skip the line. I was still in line at 11am and my plane started boarding at 11:04am so I was a little worried. I got to my gate and boarded the plane. Luckily I got a window seat. I put my hoodie over my face and sobbed for a long time. I was informed by either Gus, Mom, or Dad that Max was slipping so they were going to head to the hospital to say goodbye while he was still breathing. We didn't know if they were going to take his body away or how it all worked, so I was worried I wasn't going to get to say goodbye. However, I had a strong feeling I would be able to see him, so I wrote a letter to him on the plane. I was planning on reading it to him once I got there. I wrote it without being able to see the words because the tears were completely blurring my vision. (Actually, kind of like right now as I am writing this.) At this point, I didn't even know what happened, other than that it was a car accident. I remember ordering food on the plane and trying to watch Minions. I remember the food not having any taste and the movie not distracting me at all. Although there was one type of cheesy dip in my snack package that I thought tasted really good. It was the first of many times that something enjoyable would be tainted by the guilt or inability to enjoy something because my brother was dead. (I think a week after Max's death I took a selfie and captioned it “How can I take a selfie while my brother is dead” and quickly deleted it).

Anyways, I arrived in Denver around 2:03pm and found my dad at baggage claim. I started crying as soon as I saw him. I ran and hugged him and he said “I'm so sorry I know he was your best buddy”. He was right, and it was the most comforting thing to hear in some ways. All the pain and sadness made sense as I realized he was my best friend. My favorite lil guy. I asked, even though I knew the answer, “Is there any way he is going to make it?” My dad said, “I dont think so, Im so sorry”, then he looked down and cried. I wondered why my dad kept apologizing to me. My dad lost him, too. We all lost him. Now, my heart often aches more for my parents loss of their son than I ache for the loss of my own brother. At least until I really get to thinking about it, then Im saddest for myself. My dad and I grabbed my baggage and headed to the airport shuttle to rent a car, we had to drive to the hospital straight from the airport because Mom and Gus were saying they might take him off life support before we got there. So, we felt an urgency to hurry there so we didn't miss him. My dad and I cried on the shuttle, I'm not sure who said it first but we talked about how now was the time to check to see if we had the power of healing. We both laughed, then cried. I laughed at the thought of thinking I could heal my brother by placing my hand on him and begging God to use me to heal him, but I fully intended on trying. We rented a car at some car rental place, I remember walking to some desk and grabbing two water bottles without asking. I'm sure that they were there for guests and free of charge but this was the third time of many that the death of my brother made me give zero shits about what people thought about me. The first time being when I screamed in someone else's house at 6am, the second when I openly sobbed in the security line at the airport.

We drove to the hospital. I'm not sure what my dad and I talked about, now that I am writing this I'm sure it was small talk about Max and who he was and how in shock we were. I do remember thinking, this is only going to get worse. Everything is about to get a whole lot worse. There was a safety within shock. Your brain truly does protect you from feeling the pain and heaviness of something all at once. We arrived at the hospital, a place now that haunts me. A place that makes me feel sick to think about, a place we had to drive to and from many times, and drive past other times. Part of me wants to burn the whole place to the ground. I felt anxious to run inside and go find Max. Maybe it wasn't real, maybe we would find his room and see him sitting up in the bed. Maybe the messages were mixed up and he was actually okay. A broken bone or two, a concussion, something he would heal from. Instead, my dad and I walked through the cold parking lot, into the hospital, were directed to the floor and room we needed to go to, to find him. My mind was pretty blank as we walked down the final hallway. I was just going through the motions at this point. Pleading with everything in the universe that he wouldn't be laying on a hospital bed hooked up to machines that were supporting his life. But, unfortunately, that is what we found when we walked into his room. This is the part of this whole experience that torments me at night. The sobbing returned as soon as we saw him. I had heard from Gus on the phone hours earlier that my dad had made unbelievable sounds when he first heard the news from Lana that morning. I imagined this was what it sounded like. Through breathy and heart-breaking sobs my dad exclaimed “Oh, Max, my sweet boy what did you do to yourself”. We all sat there, me and Gus by his left side, my dad on his right, my mother by his head. Sobbing, looking at one another like “this cant be real”, then looking back at him. It went on like this for some time. But it was real, it all became real when I saw him. Something I can't forget was how warm he still was. His hands were stiff but warm, he looked just like himself. I could tell they were hiding some wounds with sheets, and whatever life-ending trauma on his head was hidden in the pillow. I was too afraid to look much closer at his head. But he mostly looked okay, like I thought there is no way this brother of mine is broken up enough to be dead. I touched his forehead, I smelled his hair, I touched his toes, I rubbed his chest, I listened to his heart, I put the back of my hand on his face. I had never really touched him so much, but I needed to take it all in. One last time. I truly can't really remember what happened next. It has become a blur now almost a year later. I think life has somewhat remained a blur since I saw my brother in that hospital room. I remember hugging Lana and sobbing together. I remember Greg and Emma showing up, I'm not sure if it was that same day or the next day. I remember crying with both Emma and Greg at different times. I took them to the room to see Max, and Greg asked the nurse if he was doing anything on his own. I assumed this meant his organs or breathing, if there was any natural life still inside Max. The nurse shook her head no. Greg and I hugged and he said “I am so sorry. I'm trying to be strong for all of you”. I can't remember how I replied but I thought it was an impossible task for someone to put on themselves. I thought, no, you need to grieve, too. Along with a strange reaction that I had for months after his death, I wanted everyone to be as sad as me.

We each spent alone time with Max, a final goodbye. I placed my hand on him and begged God to heal him through me. I pleaded, I bargained, I offered me instead of him. Then, when it didn't work, I read Max my last words to him. I had written them on the plane, which I can't believe I had the wherewithal to accomplish. But I did, and I'll paste them on here as my wrap up. I read him my words through my weeping. It all felt so wrong. I remember that most from this day, how sickening, how tragic, how wrong, wrong wrong wrong. How it changed me, how I look at the world, how if I'm honest I still feel like half of who I am is in Heaven now. From there until we saw Max for the last time, it was just a lot of crying. Then around 5pm each day we all would strangely run out of tears. I replaced tears with alcohol and we all tried laughter each night. We were there for 3 or 4 days until they let Max's heart stop, then they took away his body to help save other people. (I wish I could find the person with his heart and listen to it with a stethoscope, I saw this on a Instagram post that some family had the chance to do that. Pre-Max's death I would've found the idea cheesy, however, when I saw that post this time I sobbed for my brother and the chance to hear or feel a piece of him again.). When we saw him for the last time I kissed his sweet head. I breathed in the smell of his skin and hair one final time. “Bye, Maxy” I whispered. Then Lana and I held each other for dear life as they wheeled him away.

February 9th, 2023 2:10 PM

Max, I'm writing this to you and maybe wherever you are you can see it or hear it or feel it. Idk how it works. But in the end this might be mostly for me. You were my favorite person. George even would get jealous bc he knew that you were my real person. You got me like nobody else ever has and ever will. We went through our lives together, saw the same shit, experienced so much together. I thought I was devastated when you left for Colorado.. but that was nothing. Nothing compared to this. You're actually going to be gone. No more xmases, no more hangs in denver, no more sillinesss, and drinking together. No more laughing at things only me and you think are funny. No more jam sessions. I wanted to meet your kids. I wanted you to be the fun uncle to mine. I wanted to eventually move back closer to each other. I adore you. I have ALWAYS thought you were so fucking cool but in a way that you were also so kind and nice. You loved your people. I hope you are at peace and your brain is fixed and Jesus is hugging you. Telling you life was hard but now you can rest. You can be happy. I will join you soon. Life is so clearly short so it will only be a matter of time before we're holding hands like the little (redacted for internet) we are and frolicking thru heaven. The loss of you will never be easier and i will never get over it. But like you said, i have to wake up and keep living. You are such a light just by being you. Youre funny and you make the room better when u enter. Your smart and creative. You became an amazing cook. You were so many things and so many things were lost when you went away. I want to believe your soul goes beyond whatever is left in your brain activity. When u left a huge chunk of myself went with you. I will cry whenever i think of inside joke, or hear a song u showed me, or look in the mirror at our nose. When I accidentally think to text you or call george by your name. My maxi. Please wake up from this nightmare with me. Please god. Please please please. —Reading this now I am shocked by how correct I was only a few hours after finding out he was gone, correct about everything I still feel.