Max Immelman loved life. He loved golf, swimming, water polo, gaming, travelling, fishing, making people laugh, doing accents, and beatboxing. His Scottish accent was apparently particularly good. His mom, Barbara-Marié, remembers the simple things too – watching him come home from school, tired and hot in his blazer, and seeing his whole face light up when he spotted her. “The moment he saw me, he had this ginormous smile on his face, which lit up my heart and make me smile. Whenever he smiled, I smiled.” Max had plans. He wanted to travel more. He wanted to do things, see things, become things. He joked that one day he would marry a beautiful brunette, “like his mama”. He was 15 years and 11 months old when he died. Sitting with Barbara-Marié and Charl, you feel the weight of all that was lost. But another word kept coming up again and again as they spoke about their son: impact. Because somehow, in less than 16 years, Max touched more lives than even his parents realised…

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