I couldn’t bring myself to celebrate this last year; Maurice Sendak’s death was still too fresh for me to appreciate it.
I wrote that the morning I heard about his death, stopping on my way to work to tap it out on my phone in between sobs. I cried aloud, messy and painful, because that is how a Wild Thing mourns.
This year I have some distance. It still hurts to know he’s gone, but I can celebrate his life and what his words meant for me and so many others.
Hail to the One Who Remembered!
Hail to the Explorer of the Night Kitchen!
Hail to the One Who Took Us Outside Over There!
Hail to the King of the Wild Things!