Maurice Sendak
[I know I could write this better, but I am profoundly sad and so I want to get this out of my system now.]
Maurice Sendak died. He was a wonderful author, but more importantly he gave me Moishe.
Years ago, when the universe picked me up by the shirtcollar and shook me loose of my past, Z came into my life. The first story I read him was Where The Wild Things Are. I roared my terrible roars and gnashed my terrible teeth and rolled my terrible eyes and showed my terrible claws until Z tamed me. And he started the wild rumpus which lasted for years, until I left.
Now Z's gone, and that's left a hole I've not yet been able to fill. I rumpus with my dog, but that's also not the same. When I go to the store and see Moishe, I yearn to take him home. (I did take home two packages of Moishe post-it notes from a dollar bin, but haven't yet had occasion to use them.) I'm very, very happy with what my life's become, but sometimes I regret mistakes I made in my past, and Sendak's death threw me back into that place.
No, I don't mean that J and I would have ended up a good couple. I think I'm too childish for her, setting aside all the other myriad issues we had. But I miss what Z and I used to have.
And a last, positive note: My Rumpus: A Where The Wild Things Are Party Guide"