It is amazing how super heroes come in all shapes and sizes. I think that for a long time I thought that they would be like the ones in the comics that filled your desk, boxes, crates and closets at our house. A Super hero totally has a cape, wares tight spandex and usually can fly or have some other power that seems so unreal, so awesome, so superb. I know a Super Hero when I see one. They have glasses and slicked back hair or they are in school and madly in love with the girl that they can’t have. They go into a phone booth or get bit by a spider or have some chemical seep into their skin and BAM they have powers, they are special, they are a SUPER Hero. There are logos and special ways to talk; there are books (of the comic kind) and movies made about these types of heroes. You were one. Maybe there was no movie made or comic written but you saved the damsel in distress, you helped the old lady cross the street, you fed the hungry, helped the homeless and loved humanity. I used to think I was in on a big secret. I knew, hell I married a real life SUPER Hero. I knew the costume was hidden somewhere in the back of our closet ~ it had to be. You didn’t have a bat mobile but you did have your bicycle and on that I saw you fight injustice and make the world a better place, well at least my world. I loved being your ‘Mary Jane’ of the real world. In April when you passed away I felt like a little of the magic, of the power, of the super~ness that made you my hero died. Peter Parker doesn’t die. Batman does not fall ill. The Hulk is not taken down by mistakes doctors make. Wolverine does not get hooked up to life support. So why was it that Trick (the ultimate hero in my eyes) was having this happen.
Spiderman became hard to look at. Your comics stayed neatly tucked in their cases as you put them. All of your collectables remained wrapped and boxed. And that girl who stood by her hero, who believed in the good of humanity, who believed that the underdog can win~ that girl faded. I unpacked your clothes and checked and checked but never found your cape. I never found your secret costume that I knew had to be hidden. I never found your lair. And for many months I thought that this thing that was so you, this comic we called life was all a made up story.
But three days ago I was faced with a milestone. It was your birthday. Your very first birthday in heaven. How unbearable of a thought it was. How could I, or any of your friends or family ever see that date on the calendar the same? How does one take in air when the pain of loss is suffocating them? And I found myself making a simple but grand request~ for everyone to be a Super Hero. I asked anyone who knew you for that one day to go out and give to another, share, be kind, change the world. I NEVER thought in my wildest dreams that our friends would instill in me a belief that the Super Hero still lives, that the comic book of life is still being written, that the good guy wins!
All day long I got reports of random acts of kindness being done. Small moments like helping someone reach something off a high shelf to paying for the coffee for the person behind him or her on line. Reports were made of paying off lay away for holiday gifts to meals being given to the homeless. Children dressed in their Halloween costumes donated coats and toys. Closets were emptied in hopes that someone in need could use items that laid collecting dust. Dog food was donated to the shelter that Norm was adopted from and tea was made for a sick neighbor. The list went on and on through out the day. There were super heroes all over country; there were pieces of YOU all over the country. There was no time to be sad. There were no moments to cry. I was too busy being the command center of information about the outpour of greatness. It spread far and wide. Friends of friends were out in the holiday spirit giving of themselves, of their time, of their funds and most of all of their hearts.
And so on your birthday, a day I dreaded, I had my thoughts redirected. You see on April 29th the phone booths did not close. The spiders did not stop biting. The ooze did not stop seeping in to the skin of extraordinary people. It all kept happening, I just lacked to see it! The Super Hero lives in ALL of us if we choice to pull back the clothes of reality and put on the costumes of giving. I love you my Spidey. I will always be your Mary Jane. Forever grateful to our friends for reminding me of the Hero that I married!
Around the world and back again~