My grandfather is in his final days. He’s 92. He has a frontal lobe brain tumor. He can do little more than lie in bed and drift in and out of consciousness, in and out of dementia.
In his most lucid moments, he still doesn’t want to believe he’s dying. Part of me has been deeply frustrated with him – how can he keep forcing my parents through the pain of telling him, again and again, that he won’t be leaving this place? At his age and state of health, as a lifelong Catholic, can’t he make peace with the fact?
Then I remembered my namesake’s most famous poem, about his father’s decline (I’m certain I’ve posted it before), and my anger dropped away.
It’s his life. He’s right to want to keep it, as fiercely and for as long as possible. Nobody can tell him otherwise. Least of all those of us who care for him. He flew alongside men who died in combat at 22. Every moment he gets is earned.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
– Dylan Thomas
photo by John Locher
Hi all, the combination of (a) having to restore all of my computer’s damaged data and more importantly (b) traveling for two days midweek to support my parents during my grandfather’s final weeks has resulted in (c) no update. I would apologize, but it seems silly to apologize for taking care of family.
My grandfather was a distinguished bomber pilot during the War, flying a complete tour over Germany. He went on to work in PR – have you seen Mad Men? Yes, it was a bit like that. He was also an aspiring cartoonist, in the magazine gag genre. I’ve always found it funny that I picked the one ridiculous bohemian career that he, in his squareness, could be excited about. Granted, he keeps asking me when I’m going to break into the syndicates with my “strip”. These days I just tell him “soon, Grandpa”.
Updates will resume next week. Thank you all for your patience and notes of sympathy.
It’s been a lot of work catching up from Comic-Con (I missed at least one entire news cycle; only now do jokes on the Daily Show seem coherent to me). But behold, here at long last is a new page. Thank heavens for the occasional interlude taking place in a darkened wood; if it were architecture or bookspines I’d be in trouble. Instead it’s owls and silhouetted pine boughs. Huzzah!
I’m traveling once again this week to help out family, and my computer is exhibiting worrisome death throes. Hopefully the both together won’t totally nix me for new comics productivity, but either way I’ll keep you posted. At the least I’ll try to put up a new round of notes.
I’m working to send out a big pile of pre-orders every day as well! A bunch of people have written in to change their mailing address at the last minute – if you’ve moved since you ordered, please send me a line and I’ll make sure your book doesn’t get bounced around before finding you.
I’m enjoying taking my time on the watercolor orders, making sure each of them looks pretty and has enough of my time invested to justify the generous donation. I’ll post the two that I’ve finished so far as soon as they’ve been safely received by their new owners. (If you’re a watercolor-order person and you just CANNOT WAIT to get your book, please send me a poke and I’ll put together the whole rest of your order, ship it to you now, and send the painting when it’s ready.)
I’m back from Comic-Con International and, given enough naps, I think I might even recover!
While there, I kept a little sketch journal of some of the wackier things I encountered, or, more factually, my reactions to them.
Click the picture to check out the whole set on Flickr!
It was a crazy time – wonderful to see so many friends, colleagues, and readers, crazy costumes and bizarre set pieces. This was my first time going as a Professional Cartoonist ™ and that added a certain amount of angst – am I annoying everybody? Will I sell enough? Am I talking to the right people? How many boxes did I ship? But it was exciting to be at a point in my professional development where those were meaningful considerations. Six years ago, I was looking up to people like me! Pretty cool.
Thank you to everybody who spoke to me, bought a book, or gave a friendly smile at the convention. It’s a pleasure. Even if my feet still hurt two days out.
This week I’m participating in the mass hallucination that is Comic-Con International. I’ll be tabling in the Small Press Pavilion at table M-09 with my usual partner in crime, Erika Moen. That’s just a hop towards the Bayside Lobby from the Webcomics Pavilion, Oni Press, Random House, and many of your other favorite makers of comic book delights! I’ll be there with books, prints, patches, bookplates, and I’ll also be taking commissions.
You can also catch me in Room 3 on Saturday from 4:00-5:00pm for the Comics After Paper panel, hosted by my good friend Douglas Wolk. If you’re at all interested in where words and pictures are headed in the future, please attend! If you’ve never seen me on a panel before: I tend to be lively.
There will be a new page next week when I’ve recovered a little. SDCC attendees, I look forward to seeing your shining faces!