This is my writing blog and I try to keep it about writing. Every now and then something bigger pops and I want to get my feels out.

Yesterday, Robin Williams died.

You know this, but typing it out… well words are my medium these days. Typing it out makes it real. Typing it out brings that frog to my throat and makes my eyes burn. A familiar sensation since I read the news.

And this is unusual for me. Death is a part of life. I mourn friends and family, I cry, I eat, I miss them. Celebrities… not so much. It’s not that I don’t care, but they aren’t my family. If I knew theirs, I’d hold hands and weep sympathy tears, but death is a part of life and all things end and this too shall pass. But not this one. This one is punching me in the throat and bringing up the waterworks.

This one is my love of Peter Pan, brought to real life.

It’s skipping school my senior year with my boyfriend and watching Good Will Hunting in Jamestown.

It’s Dead Poets Society on a rainy Saturday night with my best friend in high school. 

It’s snuggling my baby sisters and laughing at Batty.

It’s my cousin and I being young enough to have seen Aladdin in the theater with the original racist lyrics.

 

It’s Moscow on the Hudson the first Christmas my husband and I spent together.

It’s watching Mork and Mindy as a kid.

But mostly, it’s my older sister and I, stuck inside because waist deep snow and freezing winds, renting Toys from CB Video, weekend after weekend.

It’s a lot of good memories, mixed up in a lot of great movies.

It’s knowing if there was ever a human being who needed to know that the world would stop and mourn, it’s the one who passed yesterday.

And it’s  the closing of the year.

If I cannot Bring you Comfort,

Then at least I bring you Hope

For Nothing is more Precious

Than the time we have, and so…

 

 

Oh captain, my captain