A 4 Years Late Tribute to Robin Williams
I didn't know how to do this 4 years ago. GGR had just started in July of 2014 and we were still trying to figure out what we were actually going to do on this site. Since then, we've unfortunately had many other celebrities that have meant something to either myself or one of our other GGR team members pass away. We've figured out how to do this the right way. No one wants to write about this sort of thing. However, let me speak for the entire staff here and say we feel that we NEED to say something. We can't ignore our pain and when we love using our words whether through writing or the podcast medium, this is how we express our sadness. This is how we grieve and heal. So here goes, for something that I should have done a long time ago.
I will never forget where I was when I heard the news. I was at my day job and one of my co-workers told me that Robin Williams had died. I cursed at him. I was angry. This couldn't be true! I idolized Robin Williams. As someone who fancies themselves as funny, he was the gold standard or who to be like. He was hilarious, bright, unique and always seemed like he was happy. He was unfiltered and not just in language. He did what he wanted on stage, off stage, and was unafraid to be himself.
And let me be clear with this image and it's meaning: any person can cross-dress for a quick laugh. Robin Williams was much more complex than that. He could make you laugh at something like this but you genuinely smiled at his antics because HE was loving every minute of it. There was never any question as to whether or not this was the "real" him. Not only was he funny, he was incredibly quick-witted. As I grew up and started doing things like improv when I was in high school, he was the person you hoped you could channel for even a millisecond. He had 10 jokes lined up off of one topic and could just keep going if left to his own devices. And it wasn't just the low-hanging-fruit sort of humor. He would make incredibly obscure references, intelligent analysis but then make a joke about a wiener. He was diverse in his abilities.
That bravado he possessed was seen in his choices of roles. He could have gone the easy route and stuck with simple comedic movies, but he tried his hand at everything. His choices were bold. They were not always the most lucrative or slam dunks when it came to box office results, but his creativity and bravery could never be questioned. Many of us were genuinely surprised when he performed exceptionally well in the dramatic realm. I've mentioned before that his casting as Peter Pan/Banning in Hook was genius. Who else could have portrayed someone who was the "boy who never grew up" while also being a distant father who drank too much, wrapped himself up in his work and was at times verbally abusive to his children? He was frightening in that moment where he screamed at his children and within the same film, he made us laugh and even tear up when we saw how difficult his life and choices had been.
On top of his humor, he was an incredibly kind and giving man. Take a look at SOME of the organizations he gave to and helped raise money for.
He was such a wonderful person, giving so much to those who needed the help. He made millions of people laugh with his jokes and slapstick antics. But like many comedians, he struggled with depression and suicidal thoughts.
Now, this next bit will be difficult. Here at GGR we try to remain a place free of political or controversial topics. We want to remain that refuge for all to avoid these sorts of things but as this is an editorial, I feel I can speak my mind freely about this topic. Suicide is an awful thing. Period. I know that some people have a religious reason to be angry at those who take their own life. Some see it as selfish. The fact is this: a man who was so beloved, was seen as one of the funniest human beings on the planet was so distraught about the state of his mental health that he felt no other option than to end his own life. This is so utterly heartbreaking. He had been diagnosed with a form of dementia that is incurable. He would lose that quick-wittedness that defined him. Just put yourself in his shoes for a moment and imagine how genuinely awful that must have been. Learning that someone I admired so deeply was so afflicted in his final days saddens me still.
What makes his ailment and subsequent suicide so hard to discuss and why it took me 4 years to do so is that it hits close to home. My grandfather suffered from depression and alzheimer's in his later years. He was not the man I knew and looked up to for 22 years. I tell my wife that I wished she could have known that person and not the shell that was left because of his disease. At times, we would get a little bit of Pop Pop that would shine through, but those moments were just glimmers. He would disappear again and be unrecognizable. It was such a cruel twist as you would be given hope that the man who was the patriarch of your family might be back to his prior glory. Then like a flash of lightning that lights up the night sky, it was gone. You could see the fear in his eyes as it happened. At one point I was visiting him in the hospital. I was in the military at the time. He had spent 25 years as an Arlington County police officer. He began to tell me that a sergeant was looking for me because of an incident involving an FBI agent running from the cops while drunk and speeding. There were documents scattered all over the highway. They wanted my help because they were top secret documents and my clearance would allow me to view them. He saw the sadness and fear in my eyes and stopped the story and said "I know this wasn't you," and then he got silent as he turned back to the baseball game on TV.
My wife's great uncle, who was like a grandfather to her, lived with us in his final year of life as dementia ravaged his mind. He would scream in the night for people he had been dead for decades. He wouldn't recognize her, someone he so deeply loved for all of her life. For Robin Williams to make the decision to end his life early to avoid subjecting his family and friends to such horrors is far from the "cowardly way out" that many in the media portrayed his suicide to be. In fact, it offended me as I grew to know and understand these horrible afflictions in my personal life that anyone would paint him with that brush. Everything that he was, everything that he knew would be gone and he would be left as a scarecrow. That's a fate no person deserves.
Robin Williams gave to so many people. He helped thousands of individuals, yet was in pain himself. Every time someone we love is gone, especially in such a gutwrenching way, we share the pain and grief with each other in hopes to make sense of it all. We wonder if there was anything we could have done or should have done. Especially with suicide we wonder "was there some way to stop this?" There are options. If you are in need of help, don't feel like there's nothing you can do.
Robin Williams was an incredible comedian, actor, activist and human being. He will always be someone to look up to but also be empathetic towards. The man was losing what made him who he was, a fate no one deserves. He was not cowardly and those who think otherwise don't understand how truly defeating and empty he must have felt. Empathy doesn't require you to agree with why someone did something or even condone it, just at least understand how truly awful it must have been. I should have written this article 4 years ago but I am very glad I finally did it today. God bless you, Robin Williams and may you rest in peace. Boy, do you deserve it.
