In the past three weeks, there has been oodles of juicy headlines and stories to comment on. From unrest in Ferguson, MO to Russian invading Ukraine and Iraq falling hostage to Islamic extremism, this blog should have been buzzing with my opinions. I realize it hasn’t been.
For me, I am stuck. I have been in shock since the death of Robin Williams. For anyone who stops by, I hope this isn’t old news because it shouldn’t be. Or, at least, we shouldn’t allow it to be.
I had meant to create a follow up post, but could never find the right words and left these web pages silent for a time. I see what’s going on in the world, but find myself often staring up at the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of a man I never met, never even had the pleasure of seeing him perform live. Williams lived a life separated by thousands of miles and light years of status from mine and, yet, there was a connection. I knew who he was and he knew he had a fan. My name was insignificant.
It’s weird still feeling so much pain over someone you never exchanged a word with. I can only imagine the intense stupor those who did know him personally must still be lost in. Williams only existed in my life through a random series of characters and I gave each their own personal time with me, depending on what kind of mood I was in. I can still do that, but his place on this earth was much like my left leg being a part of my body. For the most part, I don’t think about it, but still use it often. Never once have I woken up and thought about how grateful I was to have that left leg. Never spent an afternoon taking in its glory nor reminisce about the travels it has partaken in. But, if it was gone, you bet I’d be angry over it and I would dedicate time staring down at where it once had been. Should I really only think about how lucky I am to have a left leg when there is a risk of losing it?
Maybe this is the problem.
We are a nation divided over race, over money and over religious differences. We spend far too much time fighting about whose way is better. We waste time inserting a reason for even the most random of misfortunes and, although nothing should be taken with a grain of salt, as we constantly run this race for what we believe will give us the perfect situation, we don’t stop to think about how we’d be out of the competition without our left legs. Robin Williams took his own life and, for awhile, we were in dismay, but our fickle minds have quickly moved onto Ferguson and someone else’s funeral monopolized the headlines while William’s ashes being scattered suddenly became barely worth mentioning.
Not that I’m saying that Williams’ funeral should have received top billing due to his celebrity. In fact, I prefer that it remained quiet and personal. But I also bet I’m one of a few to look for the news story just so I knew he was officially off the ground and, hopefully, on his way to finding peace.
So many times I thought of logging on and commenting on the latest in the bubbling political environment, but in the end, I decided to stay with the loss of Robin Williams. I wanted to slow down and not look for the next story. I needed to miss him. I do miss him.
The best I can do is remember the legacy of his life and death. That a bad day can be cured with a funny movie or a cat brushing against my leg for attention. That money does not equal immunity to pain. Try some patience and don’t look for the quick fix. Some of us roll out of bed onto fortune and some of us watch bitterly from afar. If our lives are consumed with accusation and fights, we are missing what’s important.
– the cats’ Mommy
Let's Play Hairball 