Not So Happy Anniversary

The other day I had an anniversary. Before you get all congratulatory, DON'T, it was the anniversary of my diagnosis. One thing is certain, there is not an MS patient that I know of that does not remember their diagnosis date. It is the day every thing changed. So in honor of all that I lost, I wrote this poem. I have a determined spirit, but even super heroes can get tired of the fight. 

No quotes tonight. Just my poetry. 

As always, comments are welcomed, and appreciated.

RUNNING

I can still remember the way the wind felt

when it blew against my face as I ran

Ran as fast as I could

Ran for sport

Ran for the sheer pleasure

I would run up stairs

I would run down stairs

I ran from here 

to over there

then back again

I can remember being tired from a run

I can remember being invigorated from a run

I remember when I could feel my muscles flex

Each neuron firing telling my legs how to move

Just so I could run

Run

Run

Run

Running as a child for play

Running as a teen to show off

Running as a mom to keep up with a little one

I would run in the morning

An early morning run

When the grass had some dew 

and the sun was just cresting in the sky

Announcing that day had begun

I loved those runs

Just me, my thoughts and the scenery

Running cleared my mind

I would run in the evening

A long relaxing run

When the sun was setting 

and just kissing the sky goodnight 

Telling me day was done

My troubles were left on the pavement 

With each pounding step

As my calf muscles would push off the ground

My quads giving me incredible arc 

So I could leap as I ran

I didn't just run

I flew

Then it STOPPED

That was MS

I still run

I run through fields and meadows

I run in the streets

I run on the track

I even ran across the globe

Difference is I run only in my dreams

Where my memories of cool breezes

Gently blowing on my face still live

Where I still find peace 

Until I awake

 

Farewell to the King of the Wild Things

“Oh, please don't go—we'll eat you up—we love you so!”  

MAURICE SENDAK 

JUNE 10. 1928 - MAY 8 2012

Lately it seems as though this blog is becoming a place for me to say goodbye to the people of the past. While I was writing at the paper, my first job was writing the obituary, I am beginning to feel as though as I am reliving my past career once again. This time the literary world is mourning the loss of Maurice Sendak, who passed away earlier on Tuesday.  Some of you may not be familiar with his name, but I am certain most of you are well acquainted with one of his most famous works; "Where the Wild Things Are".  To me, he was much more than that one book, to me he was the gatekeeper to the world of imagination. That one book changed everything for me at the tender age of six. 

I still can remember the excitement I felt when I first read this story, sitting in the school library at Immaculate Conception on the floor cross legged in my uniform engrossed with the drawings. I knew I was Max and when I got home I too would be able to travel though the days and weeks, into the month and year onto the ocean just past  the forest that had grown in my room. I couldn't wait to see the wild things gnash their teeth and roar their terrible roars. What Maurice Sendak did in that little book was draw a dream that enveloped me and encouraged me to read more. I never lost my desire to read and to dream. That same desire is what fueled my yearning to absorb more books, which in turn helped create my need for words. It is also the same craving that has given me the drive to write my poetry and now my manuscript. From one book, like a flash of lightening, my imagination was given birth to and the longing of more places that my mind could visit and create was unleashed. 


"Where the Wild Things Are" was not Maurice Sendak's only creation, he had many others turning Children's Publishing on its ear with his characters being more mischievous, more imaginative. His infamous illustrations pushed the envelope for many, being viewed as too intimidating for a young audience. I have to admit that when I first saw the monsters created by Jim Henson for Sesame Street, I was not afraid. Looking back now I have to wonder how much did that 1963 book and illustration influence Mr Henson.


Being an author of his own children's book was not his initial start. Maurice Sendak began his career as an illustrator. Using paints, pencils and color he created scenes that could engage a child's mind. I can remember getting my hands on another mischievous character named "Little Bear", also illustrated by Mr Sendak. 

Today in a world filled with electronic gadgets, video games and portable televisions some believe we are losing the ability to capture readers, especially young ones. I argue only if we don't expose the newest generation to books like those of Maurice Sendak do we face such a fate. As a mother of two, I gave my daughters a copy of that book, and had them learn to read it so they too can find themselves traveling into the forest. I celebrate with them as I read them that story, encouraging the little one to get loud and jump around when the "wild rumpus starts".

I am an aspiring writer with dreams of finding success, not in selling numerous books (although that too would be nice), but to know that the world I wove with my words allowed someone else to travel with their imagination. To have a reader venture into a world I created, where its beginning was simply started in a dream, transcribed onto paper. 


So tonight. as I read that very story to my child before bed, in hopes her own creative mind will spark, I will close the book and think back to myself at six, sprawled on the floor and thank Maurice Sendak. Thanking him for having created a world that allowed me to be wild, free and to roam wherever my mind and words could take me.  

             “And [he] sailed back over a year
              and in and out of weeks
              and through a day
              and into the night of his very own room
              where he found his supper waiting for him
              and it was still hot” 
                         ― Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are 

I thought I would share a few quotes, some that surprised me, by Maurice Sendak himself;

“Peter Rabbit, for all its gentle tininess, loudly proclaims that no story is worth the writing, no picture worth the making, if it is not a work of imagination.” ― Maurice Sendak, Caldecott and Co.: Notes on Books and Pictures

“Children do live in fantasy and reality; they move back and forth very easily in a way we no longer remember how to do." ~ Maurice Sendak 

“F**k them is what I say. I hate those ebooks. They can not be the future. They may well be. I will be dead. I won't give a s**t.”
― Maurice Sendak

“I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more.” ― Maurice Sendak