On Robin Williams

The world seems to be falling apart. There are wars, horrible, horrible wars. Christian children are being beheaded in Iraq. Syrians are being crucified…yes, crucified. Girls are being kidnapped by the hundreds in the Nigeria. Ebola is killing people in what will probably become a worldwide epidemic.                                                                                                                          
But what has brought me to tears? To utter sadness?

Robin Williams dying.

He has died of self-inflicted asphyxia. Self-inflicted. The words stun me.

And why I am sad is wrapped up in memories. Memories of him, his work, his uber talent. Memories of where I was when I first saw Mork; of those moments in a darkened theatre watching ‘The World According to Garp’ and seeing that he was so much more than a kinetic comedian. Of watching ‘Good Will Hunting’ and not seeing Robin Williams at all. Enjoying with my young son “Aladdin” and being amazed over and over again at his free flowing Genie.

Where do I begin to find out why I feel so incredibly sad?

It must begin with my love of movies; of storytelling in any form, really, but of my certain love of movies. Watching stories unfold and when it is done well, you are enveloped in the universe that is created and you are totally involved.

This one time, at gymnastics camp, all the camp counselors were wearing name badges with weird names like “Han” or “Obi Wan” on them and there was a buzz about the movie the names came from. I was doubtful and when my coach said we would see it on the way home (we were in Oklahoma and were going to stay at his relatives house in Texas on the way home) well, I said no. Like, forget it. I’m not going to go see some stupid Sci Fi movie. Well, he dragged me and the rest of the girls to this movie where we stood in line in the hot Texas sun and barely found seats together and it was crowded and loud and being a mouthy thing at the time I consistently voiced my displeasure. And then the movie started. And I was there…like R2 and C3PO scurried across the laser blasts and I was 100% there on that ship and I didn’t know what droids were or what the Empire was, but I did by the time it was over. It was story telling at its absolute finest.

There are so many movies that just tell a beautiful story. I just saw for the first time “Lost in Translation” and ohmygoodness what a poignant slice of life. Bill Murray is painfully good. Some of the moments are shot with such a casual eye you almost feel as if you are in the room with these people.

There are also so many movies that are just downright funny. “When Harry Met Sally” is one of the best movies ever made. Its way of telling stories within a story and the way it captures men and women is perfection. Other movies have been trying to imitate it for twenty five years. They need to stop. It can’t be done.

And when you love a movie, you love the actors who bring that story to life.

My Mom would tell me about the actors and actresses that she liked and we would watch movies together. She introduced me to Fred and Ginger and Gene and Judy and Jimmy and Clark and Doris.

I remember crying when Fred Astaire died. Jimmy Stewart, too. I love these people I’ve never met. I love them for their impeccable story-telling and their commitment to their craft.

I remember being very sad when Heath Ledger died. And Phillip Seymour Hoffman. And Paul Walker.

But with Robin Williams, it feels as if I have lost a dear friend.

I can’t pick just one Robin Williams movie…it’s impossible. It’s more of the great body of work he gave us. There are moments he gave us that are a part of our vernacular. We say things in our everyday lives because he said them first, because he made them hilarious or poignant. If you ever say them, people will nod knowingly. (“He can be taught!”; “Madonna, Madonna,”; “Hellllloooo!”)

That he was hurting to the point he felt he needed to end his life is what gets me. I hurt that he hurt that much. I hurt now for those he left behind. I can barely think of his wife and kids. Or Whoopi Goldberg and Billy Crystal.

Some people close to me right now are struggling with depression. It is an ugly thing and the struggle is real. I see the despair in their eyes and I hurt and panic a little for them. My biggest fear is that it will get them and they will go away.

The ones who have gone away haunt me. My beloved friend Darren…I found out a year or so after it happened and I wracked myself with guilt and questions. Why didn’t he call me? Why didn’t I call him when we moved back from Connecticut? Could I have done something? Did he know I loved him truly like a little brother? There are times oh these twenty years later when I just want to talk to him. Just hear him say he loves me and that everything will be okay. To hug me and kiss me on the forehead like he used to do.  Why did he do it? Didn’t he know I loved him? And why wasn’t that love enough?

I, too, have had bouts, but my happy-go-luckiness pulls me out fairly quickly. I am easily pleased, as my son likes to say, and can be happy at the Ritz or in a sleeping bag on a mountain floor. Tomorrow is another day, is something I say frequently because my hope is not in myself or in the world, but in God. That hope makes it easy to be happy wherever you happen to be in life. Life is like a roller-coaster with its twists and turns and ups and downs, but the one constant for me is Him. At the highest peak or the lowest valley I am with Him. I will follow Him anywhere. He will never leave me or forsake me and please know there were times in my life where I had to repeat that over and over in order to just be able to get out of bed in the morning.

People will fail you. Life will kick you mercilessly. Our minds will betray us. Our emotions will lead us into places we should never be. But the God of all hope is always there for each of us. Me, who believes, and you, who may not. Because here’s the thing…you may not believe in Him, but He believes in you.

And know this, too. I am here for you. If you are struggling with depression, please don’t put on a happy face for me. I will not judge you or turn from you. I am here to listen or to talk or to get you to someone who can help you more than I can. Because there is help out there. You are not alone.

As sad as I am right now, I am so glad that we have Robin Williams’ movies to ease our pain. We can go to youtube and watch clips of his comedy. We can recount our favorite part or bit. We can strive to be as generous as he was…his heart was for the homeless and for challenged athletes and many more organizations we know nothing about.

We can hug each other tight and tell people we love them and not drive like we own the road. We can put down our phones and interact face to face. We can chat with and be kind to strangers. We can talk to people whose clothes are not color coordinated. We can see beyond our facades and really get to know each other.

You treat a disease, you win, you lose. You treat a person, I guarantee you, you’ll win, no matter what the outcome.   Robin Williams as Patch Adams.

God bless you, Mr. Williams. Thank you for sharing yourself with us for all these years. I will miss you.