My mother died last week. There's part of me that wants to tell you about my mother. There’s part of me that wants to dismiss the whole thing, as I am, at heart, an introvert who wants to be left alone to grieve and who understands most of us will go through this sooner or later. The third part, the most demanding yet most unnecessary part (solely because of my messed up brain), is to let you know that this is the reason for me falling behind.
There will be less than 12 strips this month. Any other comics that arrive in April are only because I had scripts ready, and the art-part is a welcome distraction sometimes.
I’ve also decided there will be less than 12 strips in May. I’ve been determined to finish repairing the archives and get the next book ready to print, and actually had a bit of a lead on strips. But then we got that call and we rushed to be by her side. Now I’m even more determined to get that done even if it means falling further behind on strips. I’ll keep you all posted as best I can.
As private as I am, I do want to share a thing about my mom. She filled my childhood with science fiction and fantasy and creativity. She’s the reason I grew into the storyteller I am today, and that creativity carries through to her grandchildren. Thanks mom. We love you and we’ll miss you as fiercely as you loved us.
No matter how old you grow, how much you accomplish as an adult, or how much responsibility you assume raising your own family, to your parents you will always be that small, young child who they first loved and cared for. And for your part, underneath your veneer of mature gravitas, that child still exists, longing for your mother or father to hold your hand, wipe your nose, and kiss your forehead.
It is the natural order of things for our parents' generation to prepare us for the day when they pass away and leave us to deal with the world alone.
It may be the natural order of things... but that doesn't make it any easier.
My sincere condolences, Pete.