Max loved his family—he was both a big brother and a little brother, and he took both jobs very seriously. He had a special bond with both sets of grandparents, his aunts and uncles, and his beloved cousins. He loved family movie nights and popsicle walks around the neighborhood. He cherished his teachers and loved to share what he had learned at school each day. He was so smart and loved to learn new things, and he had the ability to express himself early on. He loved any opportunity he had to be outside, whether to play in the sand or in the snow, swing golf clubs, or help Dad grill. He loved having dance parties in the kitchen and singing songs as a family. He loved trips up north, especially swimming, boat rides, campfires with cousins, and tractor rides. He loved snuggling up and reading books while sucking his thumb. He took the everyday things in life and turned them into wonderful, magical moments that we will cherish for a lifetime.

And then there were his sisters. To say that Max loved his sisters is a vast understatement. His world revolved around his big sister, Harper; whatever she did, Max wanted to do. He was her perpetual shadow and did not care what he was doing as long as it was with Harper. And then came baby sister, Tess. Max adored the title of “big brother” and begged to hold Tess as often as he could. He was protective and affectionate, the perfect combination for a big brother.

Max’s Diagnosis
On April 17, 2023, Max was diagnosed with B-Cell ALL Leukemia. He stayed in the hospital for five days to begin his induction chemo and was sent home. A week and a half after being home, Max developed a low-grade fever and was brought into the ER. From there, Max was readmitted to the hospital, and his health continuously declined for a week and a half. After many tests and no answers, a liver biopsy revealed Max had a deadly fungal infection that had taken over many of his organs. Because of his risk of bleeding, the surgeons told us surgery was not an option. His breathing tube was removed, and exactly one month after his diagnosis, Max died in our arms, drenched in love.

Max’s Legacy

The most heartbreaking thing to go through as a parent is to know there is nothing you can do to save your child. We were distraught at the thought of not getting to see Max every day, not being able to watch him grow up, not getting the chance to see the world be changed in wonderful ways because of him. As we said goodbye to our little boy, we thought about who he was as a person and what the world would be missing in his absence. Max radiated joy. He brought joy to all those around him. So there, in that hospital room, we whispered to him, “The world is going to know who Max Roeker was.” And Max Joy was born.