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| From the Instagram of @TheRobinWilliams on the set of "The Crazy Ones". |
And worse, he died at his own hand.
It was as if the whole world sighed a teary-eyed "no" in defiance of the story. Social media flooded with pictures, memes, quotes, memories, memorials. A majority of Twitter trending topics for the next 2 days were his movie titles. The top 5 out of 6 "watching" choices on Facebook's status options were his movies rather than anything current or recent. I personally pulled out a VHS copy of Aladdin to watch. (Yes, VHS believe it or not.) People normally unaffected by celebrity news seemed to be affected by this. Someone who brought such joy, who filled our childhoods with pleasant memories, who always made you laugh even when he made you cringe at impropriety, was just gone.
And worse, he wanted to be.
I obviously never met the man. I was certainly entertained by him. He seemed nice and from all accounts, he genuinely was as kind and sweet as you could imagine. Fellow comedian Dennis Miller said of him, "At the core, his default set was gentle and his unconscious was sweet." Williams recently starred in the CBS comedy "The Crazy Ones", a comedy about an iconic advertising executive played by Williams and created by the quirky and wildly brilliant David E. Kelley. I was a fan of the show and may never forgive CBS not only for not picking it up for another season, but also for removing the episodes from their app. It was hilarious, and at the end when credits rolled they would play outtakes and riffs by Williams and the cast. Ridiculously funny stuff. Sarah Michelle Gellar played his on-screen daughter in the show, and in her tribute of him, said he was the dad she always dreamed of having. That is quite a eulogy.
Everyone is talking about mental illness, depression, suicide. All of which are invaluable discussions to have at any time for any reason. As someone who wriggles from the clutches of an emotional pit from time to time, freedom to be honest is rare even among friends, but perhaps the ability to speak about it is the beginning of healing. Bring it to the light and see if it still lives... it likely won't. "Thoughts untangle themselves over the lips and through the fingertips." (Dr. Howard Hendricks, I believe, but correct me if I'm wrong.)
My lingering heaviness over losing someone I've never known is from a different place though. I am trying to reconcile the gift with its cost. I feel like for a long time we've been receiving from him countless laughs, levity, stress relief, entertainment, good will - all of that - and this week we saw the check he'd been writing for it all. We discovered the bill, and we have sticker shock. It cost him dearly. It cost him everything.
And I feel guilty for taking it... now that I know how extravagant it was, how lavishly it was given. I wanna throw my hand up at the end of a stiff arm and declare, "You can't do that... it's too much." And not in one of those fake protests like when your BFF wants to spring for lunch or pay for your facial. No, a real protest when you know they don't have it to spend - when you know it would cost too much and to take it would mean they would do without something they desperately needed.
I wouldn't reduce the issue of depression, anxiety or mental illness down to something as simple as the high cost of celebrity. It's much more complicated than that. However, all of this makes me wonder who it is in my circles that smiles on the outside, giving and helping, always sweet and kind, yet on the inside is dying a little every day deeply unhappy, who looks pretty and perfect on the outside and inside feels a gaping hole of sadness and loneliness and fear.
We live in a broken world with broken people - people looking not just for hope but for a reason to hope, for a reason to believe underneath all the chaos and pain is something worth sticking around for. The more broken the world is, the more we need hope; and the more broken people are, the more we need kindness. We need to come out from behind the emotional safety of our mini-blinds and not just see others for where they really are, but engage them with kindhearted hope.
People on social media have begun declaring whether or not Robin Williams is in heaven or hell. I'm more concerned with where he was - in a hopeless place unable to find a kindness to make him want to stay alive. I'm concerned with who else occupies such a space. We need each other. We need the best version of each other to show up in dark, hidden places.
I've been sitting staring at this screen for days trying to determine what ribbon to use to tie a bow on it. I could make a hard right turn into what Jon Acuff calls a "Jesus Juke", or talk about evangelism and sharing the Good News of the Gospel. Both are valid for a blog of this genre.
Instead I leave you with this: Love people deeply. Don't be afraid of their wounds or their dark spaces. Be more afraid of the empty place they might create with an early exit. The sticker shock is overwhelming.