The news that came out this morning that Patton Oswalt’s wife, Michelle McNamara passed away has hit me a bit more deeply than one would expect. I didn’t know them, don’t know of anyone I know who knows them…I am, however, a big fan of Mr. Oswalt’s work. In fact, it’s an odd piece of timing; after getting up way too early this morning to drop the boy off for a scout overnight, I had plans to go back to bed, but it wasn’t in the cards, so I put a load of laundry in and crashed on the couch to watch his new netflix standup special Talking for Clapping (which I enjoyed tremendously, by the way – the birthday clown bit could be the new rat story), after which I checked the news on my phone and saw this story.

Here’s the thing, I guess – you get a bit of a feeling for people through their art, especially people like Oswalt, whose comedy is so based in storytelling and personal experience; I expect the Patton Oswalt we see on stage talking about his wife and kids is exaggerated a bit, but it seems pretty close to the real thing (especially given the stories you hear about him from others). And the guy I see on stage isn’t all that different from me – fortyish, intelligent, literate, geeky, obsessive, depressive, and interested in doing a good job in their chosen profession and being a good husband and father. It’s really easy to paste myself into that position, just as it was when this happened to a church friend a year or two back.

So yeah, empathy is kicking in here, as is more than a little bit of fear. I may have texted my wife (who’s off on adventures this weekend with the eldest) something to the effect of “Please Don’t Die, Okay?” this morning.

I hope Mr. Oswalt and his daughter and the rest of his family get all the help and support they need during what is surely a very difficult time. They have my sympathies.