I was meant to post something to talk about Mayday returning in Amazing Spider-Man (vol. 3) #8 but I couldn't quite find the right words to express how I felt about the story. I sat and brooded over it for quite some time and looked around the internet and found so many others spouting the same thoughts and opinions that I was having. But then something happened that made my thoughts about a fictional character and her world seem silly and small and pointless.
I received a call one morning after I had finished a night shift telling me my father had been admitted to hospital. Turned out he'd had a fall and his back was fractured and he might never walk again. And all thoughts of Mayday and her family and her loss seemed selfish because here was a genuine human, in the flesh suffering on the hospital bed in front of my eyes. My own father. The man who raised me and from whom I'd acquired a frankly appalling sense of humor was in agony and there was nothing I could do to help. To make matters worse the doctors suspected (and later confirmed) a mild heart-attack.
Over the next three weeks my father lay in a hospital bed, possibly the worst place on earth to a man who'd always been active, whether it be flying a plane, riding speedway or fixing up a car. My mind often drifted toward fiction-a common trait of mine, hiding from reality. I thought of Mayday being unable to help her family and instead of disappearing into the world of comics, all I could think of is how utterly useless and powerless I felt, sitting beside the hospital bed while my father slipped in and out of consciousness and lucidity. I couldn't help anyone. My mother and siblings were all gathering and considering the future in their own ways but I felt numb to it all, sitting there.
It came to light that my father's body was shutting down slowly. His kidney's were failing, his heart had had one-too-many attacks over the years and an infection had overrun him. Time was a gift inshort measure. It's hard to know what to do with your time when you have years ahead of you, but it's impossible to know what to do when you have days or just hours left to spend with a loved one. It feels wrong and pointless, falling short no matter what you do or say.
Mayday was so overcome with grief as her family was torn apart by an unforeseen and monstrous occurrence. At first I thought the story was all wrong, it was a waste of well developed characters and completely went against the entire ethos of the world the characters inhabited. But thinking on it with all this weight on my heart, I can see how a person can be transformed by rage and loss and grief.
The last words I said to my dad as I made to leave one morning were rendered completely unintelligible by my constant sobbing and sniffing and blubbing. I reached for a tissue and blew my nose loudly, covering the tissue. My dad smiled and said 'Now eat it!' Through all those tears and sadness I laughed. We've got a stupid sense of humor, it runs in the family.
He died a few days later.
I've never felt particularly good with my emotions and my ability to relate to other people. Humor has always helped break down the barriers and make things easier. Recently, I haven't had any reason to laugh and I've been consumed by my emotions, particularly anger and rage and sadness. I thought sitting down and talking about things through my blog might finally help me feel a little better. But I've also got a few thoughts to throw toward May's character as well. Mayday seems alternatively full of revenge and sadness, clinging to her baby brother as the last of her family while swearing revenge.
May 'Mayday' Parker, revenge is not the answer. Anger and rage and resentment will consume your entire life and swallow you whole. Do not loose sight of the person your parents wanted you to be. Our parents may not be perfect and lord knows we can argue with them, sometimes even hate them but when they are gone all we can do is stand up and keep going. Look inside yourself and find that motivation to never give up. It's what they would have wanted. With Great Power Must Also Come Great Responsibility.
I miss you dad. I miss you more than words can express. I'll do my best -no matter what happens- to be the best father I can be for my own child because that's the greatest responsibility of all. I love you.
Until I eat the booger, I remain
frogoat