Patton Oswalt has been very open with the tragic story of his wife’s passing and his grieving process. He has released a new reflection on his first 5 months and 10 days of raising his kids as a single father:
It feels like a walk-on character is being asked to carry an epic film after the star has been wiped from the screen. Imagine Frances McDormand dying in the first act of Fargo and her dim-bulb patrol partner—the one who can’t recognize dealer plates—has to bring William H. Macy to justice. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I want to tune out the world and hide under the covers and never leave my house again and send our daughter, Alice, off to live with her cousins in Chicago, because they won’t screw her up the way I know I will. Somebody help me! I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. But then I think back to when I became a father—to when Michelle and I became parents together. I felt the same terror. I longed for the same retreat. And somehow I sort of half breathed in and clumsily took steps forward and I screwed up a lot of stuff—we screwed up a lot of stuff, Michelle and I—but eventually we got the hang of it. We had it. Or our version of “it.”
Thank you Mr. Oswalt, not just for the hours of entertainment in your stand-up and career, but also for sharing eloquent observations on the cross that you must bear. Your words remind us of all that we have and keep us from taking them for granted. It is clear that your wife was the center of your world and we will keep you in our prayers as you continue through these difficult times.
God bless you, sir.