I cannot stop thinking about him. I cannot stop tearing up. My heart hurts. How can this be? I never met this man but I am so deeply sad at his passing. I keep thinking of his kids. When my husband died, my daughter was only 17 years old. It was hard. Very hard. But my daughter’s dad died from an illness that nobody questioned. Ultimately, it was a heart attack. Robin Williams also died of an illness, two actually – addiction and depression. Ultimately, reports today indicate he hung himself with a belt. He hung himself. What? What? I cannot process this. I am absolutely stunned. I just don’t understand how a man who brought such great joy to millions and millions of people and who, by all accounts, was incredibly kind and generous, can come to an end like this. And if I, a middle-aged widow from upstate New York, cannot make sense of this, what must be happening with Robin’s kids? His youngest son is only 19 years old. His name is Cody. How can Cody, and his two siblings, Zelda and Zach, come to terms with reports of their father’s death at his own hands?
How could a father do this to his kids? How could a husband do this to his wife? How could a man do this to himself?
I probably sound so incredibly naïve. A friend in L.A., sober for thirteen years, and a friend in N.Y., sober for one year, two weeks and five days, have both written of the hope that his life, and also his death, can serve to help others. I fervently pray that it does – that if there is someone out there thinking that he or she has no other option than suicide that maybe they will see there are other options. I fervently pray that Robin Williams’ death, and life, will help people like me who don’t understand this (now), but will take the time to learn so that maybe we could help … or at least recognize when someone needs help. And I fervently pray that Cody and Zelda and Zach are surrounded by loving friends and family who, in Zelda’s words, will remind them to look up.