The world lost another great mind on Monday. As the world woke this morning to news that Robin Williams, eternal funny man and imparter of some of the greatest onscreen wisdom (think Good Will Hunting, or the Dead Poets' Society) has died by suicide, people shook their heads in disbelief.
"But he was SO full of LIFE", we all said.
But there's the catch, isn't it? It seems the brightest stars are the ones most at risk of burning out; the people who see the beauty, appreciate the wit and perceive the greatest insights in this world, are the ones most at risk of succumbing to the weight of sorrow and helplessness inflicted by greed, cruelty and injustice.
There's so much in his death that reminds me of the day we all lost Mikko. I've cried for this famous funny man, who I never knew, in ways I haven't in years, and an old grief that i increasingly recognise has never really been processed, is again never very far from the surface.
At the same time, I have been warmed and encouraged by the beautiful response of his daughter Zelda, which reminds me so very much of the way so many people responded in the wake of Mikko.
"My family has always been private about our time spent together. It
was our way of keeping one thing that was ours, with a man we shared
with an entire world. But now that's gone, and I feel stripped bare. My
last day with him was his birthday, and I will forever be grateful that
my brothers and I got to spend that time alone with him, sharing gifts
and laughter. He was always warm, even in his darkest moments. While Ill
never, ever understand how he could be loved so deeply and not find it
in his heart to stay, theres minor comfort in knowing our grief and
loss, in some small way, is shared with millions. It doesn't help the
pain, but at least its a burden countless others now know we carry, and
so many have offered to help lighten the load. Thank you for that.
To those he touched who are sending kind words, know that one of his
favorite things in the world was to make you all laugh. As for those who
are sending negativity, know that some small, giggling part of him is
sending a flock of pigeons to your house to poop on your car. Right
after youve had it washed. After all, he loved to laugh too
Dad was, is and always will be one of the kindest, most generous,
gentlest souls Ive ever known, and while there are few things I know for
certain right now, one of them is that not just my world, but the
entire world is forever a little darker, less colorful and less full of
laughter in his absence. Well just have to work twice as hard to fill it
back up again."
To hold memories of someone close as we learn to live with this gaping hole suddenly ripped in our lives, to hold our living friends and family even closer: and to turn an indifferent yet gracious shoulder to those who would judge, or criticise, or blame. This is a rare state of grace. And I hope and pray with all my heart and knowing that through this togetherness, his family finds the same comfort we did, as we learn to live with an absence that can never entirely go away.
Vale Robin Williams. I wish you didn't feel you had to leave. Thank you for a million laughs and a handful of tears. Both are part of your gift to us all.
