I’m sure people everywhere were saddened to hear about the death of Maurice Sendak today. He wrote a story that would become iconic in the world of bed time stories. Through Max’s adventures we found our own wild thing residing within and have allowed it to flourish and grow as we run and leap through life. Little did Maurice know as he penned Where the Wild Things Are the massive impact it would have on generations and generations to come. Regardless of the fact he is no longer on this earth, he will linger on in the beloved words of his book and in the spirit of all those who have been to the island where the Wild Things are.
I like to think that Maurice is clambering into his own boat, drifting across many seas, and finally stepping foot onto the land spun from his own imagination. The Wild Things are running out to greet him, making him their king, and he’s embracing them with a mighty cry, “Let the Wild Rumpus Begin!”
Rest in peace Maurice