Dear Mr. Robin Williams,
You fooled us all. I can't forge a guess as to what it takes to capture the world's attention--and do with it what you will--but you certainly mastered it. Not even for a mere moment do I envy you, however.
Already the world is a colder place without you. I didn't praise my name on your word, but, God, was I influenced by it. From wherever within you drew the inspiration is forever how the world and those you left behind--me--will remember you--laughing and crinkle-eyed, compromised by natural emotion.
I want to say that I can't imagine the anguish you faced with weathered, forever-sunny eyes, but I can (and I do). I know (and I have known)--and it scares me. But beyond that I can only say that I am horrified to know that you might have thought that, despite the unadulterated joy you brought to the furthest corners of the globe, you might be alone in the world. Coincidentally I know that I am not alone in professing that I might have held your hand, unmitigated. It mortifies me further to glimpse in my mind's eye the hearts of your children and your loves.
And yet, still, Mr. Williams, I do not fault you. No one ought to face fault for the unanticipated demons that come in the night--especially those who dedicate their life's worth to the betterment of plain humanity. Lord knows the world will never forget the laughs you procured--least of all the ones that sustained me through childhood, shaped the joyful nature in me today, and that predict for me the future of living and breathing, themselves.
So how, yet, can I say thank you, say goodnight?--when you have barely scratched the surface of what has yet to be a promised, totally fulfilled life? When I fell in love with your genuine voice, your unmatched, heartfelt sense of humor, Lord knows I intended for it to be a lifetime supply. No, the world is not ready-- I am not ready to say goodnight yet, to say goodnight ever. Timelessness means boundless, untouched eternity, and the spirit you blessed our very attentive hearts with is a divine entity that I intend to worship with the love and fervor only God might yet revere.
I will never forget the origin of my passion, my unyielding need to laugh (and make laugh), and I will never say goodbye to you--but may God rest and keep you, safe and warm and far enough away from the night-crawlers that you, too, might now laugh at them.