Remembering Maxine

One year ago today we lost our dear friend Maxine after she lost her lengthy battle with breast cancer.

Most of my time with Maxine was spent playing in our cover band ‘OSCAR’, which was hands down the most successful and enjoyable band I’ve ever been a part of. Glenn, Tom and I were just some guys jamming in a garage and Maxine propelled us into being a proper, fully-fledged band that could go out and experience the world. It’s safe to say that we wouldn’t have gotten any further than the garage if it was not for her. As well as being the best vocalist I’ve ever worked with, she also had an inexplicable talent for picking songs that would be crowd pleaders (and not just the obvious ones). She would pick songs that would make us all say “Seriously!? That song?” and then when we would play them at gigs, they would absolutely kill. Other times we would fight to include a track against her better judgement and more often than not it would completely bomb. After that I learned not to question her instincts and to just follow with blind faith, because no one could pick them better than her.

A few years since our last gig and after I returned from Germany, we caught up for a jam on a Sunday. February 28, 2016. Just for old times sake really. Maxine was fashionably late as always and rolled in with a shaved head and some bandaging under her top around her chest. Glenn and I hadn’t mentioned anything of her ongoing battle to our now drummer Mark and he immediately made a comment about her haircut looking “butch” or something thereabouts. Once she smacked him down and filled him in on the particulars, he looked at us as to why there was not any heads up. We announced that rather than telling him, it would be funnier to watch him step in shit and try and get it off his boot. I think Maxine probably enjoyed that to some extent too.

Just before we started jamming, I questioned why I had come back. I didn’t particularly miss the cover band life: lugging gear everywhere, dealing with flaky individuals, trying to secure gigs, the late nights and hours upon hours of rehearsal for a disproportional amount of reward. It was only when we played our first song that I remembered: it was mainly due to Maxine. I loved hearing her sing. I bowed my head, closed my eyes and absorbed the sound for a while. I’d really missed it. It was at that moment that I realised that, for me, the band was almost an excuse to be near her every time she sung. It was the main reason I wanted to be in the band.

The jamming was just like old times. Some of the songs were in remarkably good shape, but there were others that had fallen right off the bridge. We mercifully stopped a few songs that were particularly heinous and then burst into fits of laughter at just how terrible they had become. It was lots of fun and we had put in a solid session, but we were ready to go back for a few more songs at the end. At that point Maxine had to call time – she was exhausted and had a really sore back. We made loose plans to shake up the set list and get back out there at some stage.

A few weeks later, as I was driving Sarah up to the airport she received a call from Maxine. Her sore back, it turned out, was due to the cancer. It had spread.

The last time I saw Maxine was on a Thursday. March 24, 2016. It was the day after my brothers funeral, so Glenn only cautiously asked if I wanted to join him to in visiting her at The Royal Women’s Hospital in Melbourne. I think he was shocked to receive such a quick and enthusiastic reply. I was having some pretty shitty days around that time, and could think of no better antidote that going up to see her for a chat. I had missed her terribly and really wanted to catch up.

I’m glad I went to see her; the spark that made her ‘Maxine’ was still well and truly alive. So much so it almost seemed as if nothing was wrong and she would certainly be victorious in good time. She was upright in bed and we all talked about many things. She made mention of how there was no history of cancer in her family whatsoever. Plenty of dementia though, and quipped that she would have much preferred that than what she was currently facing! She also entertained us by reading morbid texts from some her school students, which were worded like she was terminal and only had days to live. “Aww gawd! I’m not dead yet guys!” she announced – and we all laughed. I’m not sure I would be as upbeat while facing such visceral thoughts around my own mortality, but I guess you don’t really know until you’re there, right? It didn’t surprise me that Maxine didn’t complain about getting such a raw deal. She was innately upbeat and positive, and was always looking where to put the next foot to get out of a shit situation rather than complaining.

When we were leaving, I was cautious of giving her a hug. My overthinking brain had remembered on an episode of ‘Parenthood’ where the ladies being treated for breast cancer hated everyone giving them careless hugs because they were invariably sore around that area from treatment. She had no such problems, or if she did she didn’t let them be known. I was so glad I got to give her a big hug, and would have held her even tighter if I knew it was going to be the last time.

So it’s a unique position, having someone you’ve played hundreds of songs with pass away. It means that in the aftermath, there’s hundreds of songs to help remind you of the many good times. I do think about her all the time, but when I’m not, a song will invariably come on that radio that will take me right back to her.

The other night as I was finishing up bath time with Rachael, “Let Me Entertain You” started playing on the radio. I immediately started chuckling as I remembered the time we played that song, somewhere in the second set, at The Max Hotel in Geelong. The song structure went completely out the window when we ended up playing the 1st verse again (prompted by the lyrics) after the second last chorus. This event and the flow on changes that followed, like a double guitar solo, meant that the song ended up going on for well over nine and a half minutes! There was a point at about the six minute mark where we all looked at each other with a look of “what is going on?!”, but the floor was dancing and no one was questioning it – so we joyfully plowed on. When we finished the song we were all laughing our heads off about how ridiculously long the song went for and the fact that no one questioned why the song had more than doubled in length.

There’s hundreds of great little memories like that, all made possible by her.

Thank you, Maxine.

I don’t know what the afterlife holds, but whatever it is, I hope like we can meet up and jam like hell in it!