His playful, and downright jovial demeanor is one of his best qualities - he's so friendly, in fact, that it's nearly impossible to walk into an establishment (even outside the city of Topeka, it seems) where he isn't running into someone he knows, or that remembers him from his umpiring days, or another prior activity he was involved in. But there's far more to him than his "boy they'll let anyone in here!!" jokey nature.
He's a highly intelligent man - have you ever challenged him in Trivial Pursuit? Yeah, better to be the teammate than the opponent. The man completed a degree in Chemistry, and then later returned to school and completed a degree in Accounting. He actually enjoys doing income taxes. I know. The smarts always came in handy when helping with homework, though. Goodness, I remember one particular instance....8th grade Math...Ms. Jordan....it was an extra credit problem that we worked on together. (Stated another way, we worked on it "together" for about 20 minutes, and then he worked on it for 40 minutes only to discover something ridiculous like you had to buy another barrel of oil because the problem couldn't be worked out the way it was written - it was impossible to solve.) Yes, many an evening of homework was made more successful with his tutelage.
My favorite "quality" of his though, is that he's my Dad. I know that's not really a quality, but work with me here. It's in his role as "dad" that I believe Max Foster really shines - it brings out the best in him.
He can be impatient - perhaps this is where I inherited or learned it myself. He's been known to lose his cool. ;) BUT, I would challenge anyone who tried to say they know of a better father than my dad. My dad (together with my mom) raised a loving, tight-knit family - no easy feat. He taught us about love....dedication...hard work....and yes, discipline too.....by talking about it, but mostly by modeling these things. He is the head of our family. He worked tirelessly to provide for us - sometimes as many as four jobs in a year if you included our second family job at the animal hospital, AND doing income taxes, AND umpiring. He did this so my mom could stay home with us instead of working; it was how they wanted to raise us, and they did it. I really can look back now and value the time we spent working together as a family - we all went to the animal hospital together, three or four times per week - so even as a child, I understood what it was to have a job, to experience it, to have to go even when you didn't feel like working. I just grew up knowing what that was like, and I'm thankful for it. At the time, I probably would have told you I'd have rather be playing, but now, I don't know if I would trade the lesson it taught me.
The love and discipline went hand in hand. My dad....well, I don't know if he ruled with an iron fist...but let's just say my sisters and I all had a healthy respect for him! We just knew that what he said was final, we didn't argue or protest (too much)....and yet we knew just how much he loved us. He never took it too far either....although one time I thought he was going to. The moment stands out in my mind as clearly as if it happened yesterday. He'd had enough of Megan standing up at the dinner table, and he'd told her several times to have a seat. So finally, he silently shoves his chair back from the table...and marches back to his bedroom. Uh-oh. This was at our new house, so I was at least in middle school, and at that dining room table, my seat had a view straight down the hall, so I could see what he was doing. The light to the room flipped on, then back off, and around the corner he came, belt in hand. He came marching back to the table...and I literally started praying for Megan. I remember thinking "oh my gosh he's actually going to spank her with a belt??!!". He silently entered the kitchen (meanwhile all of us were sitting there in shock - I think even my mom, but I didn't look at her because my eyes were glued on him), and then he situated Megs in her chair, then looped the belt through the rungs in the back of the chair and strapped her to it. It quickly became a moment where I was stifling laughter, but the point was brought home. That's how I remember my dad - he was tough, but not too tough. He was just tough enough.
There were far more hillarious and loving moments than there ever were "oh we're in trouble" ones, anyway. Like....the little round "hickey" he gave himself, right smack-dab in the middle of his forehead with the little suction cup rocking horse high chair tray toy. He stuck that thing on his forehead and we just thought it was the best thing ever...until it got stuck. I'll bet that was embarassing...I wonder how long the hickey was there? Or the countless times (literally countless) that he called us by the wrong name. He'd go down the list...."Meliss....Mich...Meg......OH YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, GET OUT HERE!" when he was trying to get to the one of us that needed the discipline at that moment. He was the first-ever dad who Beverly Bernardi drug out to do a "dad dance" during the Jerry Lewis telethon...and he did it, by himself, and he was a good sport about it. It became a thing after that for the dads to dance as a little spirit booster for the event. :) I remember trying out in elementary school to be one of the children in Topeka High School's production of the King and I - I could sing and I thought I had a great shot at the part and so did my music teacher. But I got a call after the audition, that I did not get the part because I didn't look the part. It's truly a time that I experienced just utter heartbreak in my life, and I remember just sitting and crying on my Daddy's lap...and he just held me and held me while I cried. Again, I remember that like it was yesterday - the feelings I experienced in that moment must have been really profound for it to stick out so clearly to me. I remember my dad, on the driveway with me...every...single...morning of seventh grade. I was out there waiting for the bus, and while I waited, I practiced my volleyball serves. I couldn't overhand serve the ball to save my life in 7th grade, but somehow still made the team. I had such a drive to master that skill, and my dad was out there with me every morning before he left for work. Every. Morning. I remember coming back in 8th grade, and I could serve it then, and my coach being so impressed with the improvement.
I could go on and on about these things.....he loved his music and raised us on Fleetwood Mac, and the Doors, and The Eagles, and Heart and the Rolling Stones. He coached hundreds of softball games, got nominated as the coach of the year more times than I can remember. And he coached the teams in a way that everyone got fair playing time, and felt like an amazing part of the team, and he still made them successful teams. He drove thousands of miles - for a few family vacations, but more-so to visit family, to take us to volleyball games, back and forth to church...and school events.
He's always been Max....a son...a brother. Their childhood was maybe less than ideal - divorce situations are never easy. But ..... he came through it a strong, and loving man. And, he and his brothers are still a hoot when you get them together these days.
Then he became a husband. I'm sure mom could sing his praises as a husband better than I could. :)
And now.....man...now. Now he's Grandpa - and that has been a beautiful chapter of his life to watch unfold. He gets almost giddy around the kids, and they love him. I'm glad for my kids, and glad for my dad that we live so close and they can be such an integral part of each others' lives. The bond they share is SO special!
All I'm really trying to say is......Thank you Dad. You've given so much to all of us through your 61 years, and I just want to take a moment on your birthday and recognize you for the wonderful things you are, and the many things you've done for all of us who know and love you!
In closing....I'd like to leave you with a little song:
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Happy birthday!!!!!
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