Snow

It snowed last night and now the world outside looks like someone came along and brushed it with a paintbrush dipped in white. It's beautiful. And as with all pleasures, there's part of me that thinks 'wow, this is amazing' and part that thinks 'Max can't enjoy it this time'.

And then I started thinking about another time it snowed and I was at Max's house. It was the evening and we had no plans to go anywhere. I imagine we were simply going to stay in and watch a movie in bed (as was one of our favourite customs). Surprisingly there was a ring on his doorbell and then into the hallway spilled a group of lads who had other plans for Max that night...Snowball fights.

I lingered at the top of the stairs as they persuaded him to join them (I don't think he needed much convincing). Then he looked up at me and asked me if it was ok for him to go! I must admit I was slightly put out seeing as I was now going to have to entertain myself alone in his house for a few hours and wasn't sure what I was going to do. But there was no way I was going to tell him he couldn't go out if he wanted to do! It's a strange phenomenon but often when a girlfriend starts affecting her boyfriend's plans (however innocent she may be), his pals (who are themselves single) seem duty-bound to give the boyfriend the harmless yet insulting title: 'p***y-whipped'.

Max was on the verge of acquiring said title as he asked for my permission, but it was really sweet that he asked. Although I wasn't going to stop him, he could sense my pout, and was all cuddles and kisses before going to kit himself out for some serious snow action with the boys. I'm almost certain that as they left the house I could hear some friendly insults being thrown around, but Max always gave as good as he got.

I managed to amuse myself somehow and when Max returned he conjured the image of a snowballing battlefield. I can't remember exactly who came to the door that night, but perhaps you're reading this and you remember it too.

Rosy

Email to the blog

For the present if you want to send a post to the blog by email you will have send it to 'maxblog2.textbutnopics@blogger.com'. The post will not be put up immediately - I have to vet new posts for spam. Everthing else is the same, as described in Go straight to How to add messages to the blog.

Seamus

From Jessie

I have wanted to write something on this blog for nearly a year now. That sentence in itself is almost unbelievable, because it means it is nearly a year since I, or anyone, last saw Max. Part of the reason I have not done so is because losing him and missing him has been expressed so beautifully and eloquently by all of his family and friends, and I wasn’t sure that I could add anything. Part of the reason I haven’t is because Max was my younger brother’s friend, and I saw my role as being there for Jay, rather than expressing my own feelings of loss.

Over the past week I have been thinking about Max, and missing Max a lot. Jay and I have grown up with Zara and Isaac, our parents are best friends, and we have known each other forever. Although I did not go to Hampstead School, or live in Queen’s Park, the area and the unique community around the park has always been a large part of my life.

When we were kids and really up until the past year, there was always a kind of separation between Zara, me and our friends being the older sisters, and Jay, Ize and their friends being the younger brothers. As with most teenagers, this divide seems huge, and at the time you could never even imagine hanging out with your smelly younger brother and your sad older sister!

However, when you grow up a bit and everyone gets past a certain age, these differences start to disappear; before you even have a chance to question it– you are all adults and embarking on your own lives.

In the past year, the gap between all of us has closed. In September this year Zar and I and the boys, went on an amazing trip to America and had so much fun together. We all missed Max, and in true Max style, we lived it up and partied hard in LA, San Diego and Vegas, as he would have done… he would have been proud! Part of the reason for the trip was Max, to celebrate his life, and for his friends to have something positive in a year, which for the most part was so deeply tragic.

What I am most sad about, and what I have been thinking over the past few days is that Max was becoming one of my friends. I did not get a chance to get to know him in the way I have gotten to know the others. I have been thinking about our trip to America and the weekends in Norfolk, all of the times over the past year we have spent together, and willed and wished him to have been there.

The last time I saw him, a year ago, was just before he was going back to Spain. We were out partying, celebrating Owen’s birthday, all of us in a big group together, when the gap was beginning to close. He managed to be the most charming and wildest of the group, and immediately took on the role of the joker – centre stage – with such style and ease.

Max was so much fun to be around, and always added something to anything (even if it was some sort of drama!) I can only say that I am sure he would have been a unique, amazing friend, as he was to all of you boys and everyone who knew him. I am just sad that I only got a taste of that friendship, and wish I could have shared more times like that last time, with him.

Jessie Mond Wedd
11/01/2007

Us in America

2007

At the end of New Years Eve, one of Max's all time favourite nights of the year, a load of us ended up at Dash's house which is opposite one of the entrances to Queens Park. As it began to get lighter we realised the park would be open soon and that although Max couldn't have been with us for the previous night, we could go see him and the tree in the morning. So, at about 8.30am we bundled our selves up, brought whatever we needed, footballs and all, and went to see him. We stayed for about half an hour and spent the first part of the first day of 2007 with good friends. As you can see there were about 15 of us. Someone had added a note to the tree which was lovely. Standing there we realised that we had 2 footballs, and although Max would testify that you can never have too many, we decided to leave one with the tree. We thought that Max would appreiciate it. And if someone took it we thought that they would be very lucky, and probably turn out to be a fantastic footballer, as it had come from such good stock. It was sad to say the least, but it is something that we are all glad we did - it was needed. As my mum says, you have to take your comforts where you can fnd them these days, and while i would give anything to have him back, it gave me great comfort to be able to go, with all his close friends, into the park and feel close to him. I think this is a tradition that will stay.