Maurice Sendak was a hero to me before I really understood that term outside of Superman, Spider-Man, and Captain America. His stories, “Where the Wild Things Are,” “Pierre,” etc…, resonated with me as a young child. Here were protagonists that I could identify with; snarky, defiant, independent, and fiercely misunderstood. Coupled with his gorgeous illustrations and wild imagination, he captured my attention and hasn’t let go since. So his passing is especially hard, especially since I feel like I’ve gotten to know a little of the real Mr. Sendak through his books. They aren’t the traditional children’s tales that so easily separate good from evil, right from wrong. They’re filled with uncertainty and wonder, fear and elation; just like childhood itself.

Rest in peace, Mr. Sendak. There’s a wild rumpus in the sky that’s missing you.

But wait, there’s more…