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I can鈥檛 think of another writer in that category who has Munsch鈥檚 depth or range: his books can cause readers to shout over and over in funny voices (鈥溾��), inspire unexpected conversations about important life lessons (鈥�,鈥� 鈥溾��) and reduce parents to a puddle of tears (鈥溾��).

These often repetitive books stand up to the repeated reading that kids demand. They鈥檙e fun to read. They鈥檙e fun to have read to you. They鈥檙e stories that have been part of the fabric of childhood聽for generations.

Munsch was born and raised in the United States but settled in Guelph, Ontario, in 1975, where he established a family and his career as an author. He became a Canadian citizen in 1983 鈥� and what a gift it鈥檚 been to have him among us.

I remember in university, I fell in with some friends from Guelph and learned that one of them had been a babysitter to Munsch鈥檚 children. I was amazed to learn he lived so near to my home in 海角社区官网(although if I鈥檇 been paying closer attention, I might have noticed that Michael Marchenko鈥檚 illustration of the city hall in Munsch鈥檚 book 鈥淛onathan Cleaned Up聽鈥� Then He Heard a Sound鈥� was based on Old City Hall, on Queen Street.

Many of us learned recently that Munsch, who is 80 years old and lives with Parkinson鈥檚 disease and dementia,聽has been approved for medical assistance in dying. He鈥檚 preparing for the eventual end,聽, not wanting to linger past the point where he becomes 鈥渁 lump鈥� kept alive by interventions and unable to communicate with his loved ones. I began thinking the kinds of thoughts that I might write in a memorial column when he dies.

His daughter Julie later聽聽that began, 鈥淢y father is NOT DYING!!!鈥� She explained that his decision to 鈥渦se MAID鈥� had been made five years ago but that Munsch was doing well despite his degenerative disease. Nobody should expect him to 鈥渄ie anytime soon,鈥� Julie wrote. Which was heartening to read.

Still, something Munsch said to the Times struck me, about choosing the timing of his death. 鈥淚 have to pick the moment when I can still ask for it,鈥� he said. And I thought, If I鈥檓 going to write a tribute, maybe I should do it now, while he can still read it.

I鈥檓 a little too old to have been raised on Munsch鈥檚 books, but I鈥檓 a big brother to three siblings and a parent to three children, so it鈥檚 possible that I鈥檝e spent more time reading and re-reading Munsch than I have any other single author. I can remember reading to kids who rolled around laughing as I shouted or sang the words and acted out the vivid descriptions that recur in many of his stories.

Munsch鈥檚 bestselling book, 鈥淟ove You Forever,鈥� was published in 1986 and has sold more than 38 million copies since then. My mother bought dozens of them. She gave them as gifts to her children, her siblings, her friends and anyone she knew who was becoming a parent.

鈥淟ove You Forever鈥� tells the story of the life cycle of family love, of how the aching, boundless tenderness that parents feel toward their babies is reciprocated by those children when they grow up. Munsch told the Times that readers of different ages reacted in different ways to the ending: kids tend to think the very idea of a large adult son cradling his aged mother is hilarious; adults tend to weep.

It may be goopy sentimentality, but it鈥檚 also true to how many of us feel: about our children, about our parents, about the too-brief period during which we can hold each other close. And it feels particularly poignant now.

Many of us who set off to sleep as kids with Munsch鈥檚 words echoing in our heads and later put our own children to bed by reading them his books might wish that we could hold him now, as the son did in that story, and return the affection and joy and comfort that he once gave us.

Maybe the best thing we can do is keep reading his stories to new generations of kids, keep laughing and shouting and singing (and weeping) and sometimes call some ungrateful, stuck-up prince a bum.

It鈥檚 heartening to know that Munsch lives on. It鈥檚 even more heartening to know that the stories he gave us will outlive us all.