I have such good memories of reading Where the Wild Things Are to my son…and to my daughter who was trying to hide outside the bedroom door because she thought she was too old for stories. But Maurice Sendak’s book transcends generations. I enjoy reading it now as much as I did then, some 39 (and counting) years ago.
When I read of his death today it surprised me that he was 83. How could he have aged when his book did not? I always thought of Maurice Sendak as forever as young as his art. I hope he never lost the sense of adventure that was so abundant in Where the Wild Things Are…or his sense of humor that was so evident in the story and his wonderful illustrations. I remember seeing his book when it first arrived in bookstores and I bought it that same day…I was captivated by it and couldn’t wait to see if it had the same effect on my children. It did…and it still does.
Like C.S. Lewis, Dr. Seuss and Charles Schulz, I think Maurice is there in that great library of the beyond swapping story ideas and laughing together…happily…forever after.