By Amy
Goldman Koss
May 13,
2012
Maurice Sendak's death (click here) was announced Tuesday just a few minutes before I was due at the
residential foster home and school where I volunteer, teaching writing to
abused teenagers.
Sendak, the author and
illustrator of "In the Night Kitchen," "Where
the Wild Things Are"and other children's classics, once told NPR's Terry Gross that as a
kid he thought that "adults seemed mostly dreadful." I suspect the
kids who find themselves in our foster care system would agree….
I raised two boys to be wonderful men. I remember looking at my image in the mirror at the age of 50 and stated, "You did it right."
I raised the two mostly without help, especially from their father. I am sure there are many married women that could say the same thing and where I received criticism in some circles for ending the marriage, but, living with infidelity is a lie and I don't live lies.
The day we found the book "Where the wild things are", my oldest son picked it off the shelf. I thought it was 'dark' in nature and didn't like it at first. My first instinct was to put it back on the shelf. But, I stopped from being a policeman in my son's lives and decided they had a right to read what intrigued their minds, so we purchased it. My oldest son, about age six or so wouldn't put it down. The year was 1985. The book was in publication long before that. My younger son, then four loved to look at the pictures while his brother talked about it.
I always read or told a bedtime story. I am sure one can see where this is going. I was very hesitant to read this story at bedtime, but, it was the first day on the book shelf and they would not have it any other way. Oh, yes, I remember most of the years with my sons and very clearly. They were and are great sons. We had a good time. I was happy I had sons, there was never a dull moment and for a women alone taking on a career that was very acceptable in an interpersonal relationship with my children. They challenged me and I grew, too.
So, here we were at bedtime and I with a low light sitting against the youngest's bed reading Where the Wild Things Are, basically in the dark. I would often recite stories at bedtime, but, this night I had to read it. I didn't know the book at all. Oddly enough they fell off to sleep as they always did.
Sendak taught me something. He taught me as a woman I experienced growing up differently than my sons were experiencing their childhood. I never interfered in their selection of reading or entertainment material after that. As they were teens and young men (They both got involved in permanent heterosexual relationships later than average; both about 26 years old.), I would speak my mind when I objected, but, never interfered in their selections or enjoyment. I didn't believe I had a right.
Sendak may have been a gay man, but, he was a man. He was talented and my sons related to him. Sendak gave us precious moments and filled a gap with my sons I could not imagine. I am grateful to him and his memory. I hope this does him honor. Thank you, Maurice, I don't think I could have done it as well without you.
I raised two boys to be wonderful men. I remember looking at my image in the mirror at the age of 50 and stated, "You did it right."
I raised the two mostly without help, especially from their father. I am sure there are many married women that could say the same thing and where I received criticism in some circles for ending the marriage, but, living with infidelity is a lie and I don't live lies.
The day we found the book "Where the wild things are", my oldest son picked it off the shelf. I thought it was 'dark' in nature and didn't like it at first. My first instinct was to put it back on the shelf. But, I stopped from being a policeman in my son's lives and decided they had a right to read what intrigued their minds, so we purchased it. My oldest son, about age six or so wouldn't put it down. The year was 1985. The book was in publication long before that. My younger son, then four loved to look at the pictures while his brother talked about it.
I always read or told a bedtime story. I am sure one can see where this is going. I was very hesitant to read this story at bedtime, but, it was the first day on the book shelf and they would not have it any other way. Oh, yes, I remember most of the years with my sons and very clearly. They were and are great sons. We had a good time. I was happy I had sons, there was never a dull moment and for a women alone taking on a career that was very acceptable in an interpersonal relationship with my children. They challenged me and I grew, too.
So, here we were at bedtime and I with a low light sitting against the youngest's bed reading Where the Wild Things Are, basically in the dark. I would often recite stories at bedtime, but, this night I had to read it. I didn't know the book at all. Oddly enough they fell off to sleep as they always did.
Sendak taught me something. He taught me as a woman I experienced growing up differently than my sons were experiencing their childhood. I never interfered in their selection of reading or entertainment material after that. As they were teens and young men (They both got involved in permanent heterosexual relationships later than average; both about 26 years old.), I would speak my mind when I objected, but, never interfered in their selections or enjoyment. I didn't believe I had a right.
Sendak may have been a gay man, but, he was a man. He was talented and my sons related to him. Sendak gave us precious moments and filled a gap with my sons I could not imagine. I am grateful to him and his memory. I hope this does him honor. Thank you, Maurice, I don't think I could have done it as well without you.
