Hawkeye #13 made me cry. It’s not because I was emotionally attached to Grills. Although, I was fond of him and it was sad that he died. But as some of you may know, my uncle passed away last year. I’ve blogged about him a few times. We were close and he was the biggest influence in my life when it came to comics and geek culture. He took me to my first comic con when I was little. And he’s been even more top of mind because New York Comic Con was this past weekend and we would go together.
On Wednesday I headed over to Forbidden Planet to pick up my comics after work. I hadn’t been there in two weeks so I had quite a few to catch up on. I knew I wouldn’t get to them all that day, but Hawkeye was one of the top titles on my list that I had to read that night. If you’re a fan of Hawkeye, you know the series went on a little break, so I was super excited to get back into the world of Clint Barton and his crew.
Once I started reading I knew I was in for an emotionally heavy issue. But I had no idea how much it would end up affecting me. I was in Clint’s head. I felt what he felt. Which then in turn, brought up my own personal feelings. I saw myself in Clint. It was a comic about me.
After my uncle passed, I’ve been more sensitive to death, even fictional death, because I now have a point of reference. It’s easy to kill off characters in comics, but it’s not easy to make the reader connect to that loss.
If someone wanted to know why I love comics so much, Hawkeye #13 is why.