Firstly, I would like to thank the families of Don Knotts, Robin Williams and Edward Herman (along with all the other celebrities that I never knew shared my special day). Thank you for sharing your father, your brother, your spouse. Thank you for allowing them to touch the lives of others, and for the influence that they have had on my life specifically.
I was born July 21, 1977. I have always loved my birthday and not just for the obvious reasons. My birth month and year are 777. I turned 21 on the 21st. I was born the year the very first Star Wars movie was released. And for as far back as I can remember, I have known that I shared my birthday with Don Knotts and Robin Williams (and later on with Edward Herman, and today I found out the total is 911 “celebrities” according to IMDB.com). Knowing that I shared my birthday with the actors of such characters as The Incredible Mr. Limpet and Popeye, I have always loved the idea that I must be inherently funny because, why else would I have stayed so long past my expected arrival date? FYI, I was born almost a month later than the doctors calculated! I loved watching these funny men on t.v. and at the movies, I was connected, on some crazy level that only existed in my own mind.
I never got the chance to meet any of these amazing men before they passed on. I always knew I would have a hard time when the day came that they were no longer with us. I never expected to be hit so hard as August 11, 2014, it hit me like a ton of bricks. It was like loosing a family member. It was like my favorite uncle had died.
Robin Williams was “with” me my entire life. I didn’t just love the funny man, I loved the passionate and compassionate man that he was. I loved every movie that I saw. I loved that he was involved in other organizations. I loved that he performed for our troops. I loved when he was an alien, a teacher, a father, a sailor, a doctor, a genie. He was with me through every milestone, every life event.
When I saw people posting on Facebook (seriously, I read it on freaking Facebook!) that Robin Williams took his own life, I was in total denial. No, it wasn’t possible. Even today, it still is hard for me to wrap my brain around the idea that he is not around. We are so blessed that there is so much of him on film to never have him forgotten, but the strange hole in my heart, the pain that aches for his family, it breaks me down.
I’m not going to go on about depression. It comes in so many different forms, you’ve heard it, you’ve read it, you may even have experienced it. I know I do. There are days that it has been a struggle to just keep breathing, to keep moving. I remind myself how selfish I am, I tell myself that I am not as lost as I want to believe. Through the years, whatever was happening, there was always Robin Williams. My Grandfather loved him in “Good Morning Viet Nam”, he inspired me in “Dead Poets Society”, and in him, I saw so much of my own father in movies like “Mrs. Doubtfire” and “Hook”.
I may never truly be able to describe what goes through my head, even when it comes to someone I admired so much as Robin Williams. For my “our” birthday one year, my dad and step-mom took me to see The Lion King musical in San Francisco and we had dinner at Ruth Chris Steakhouse. I kept telling the waiter that it was my birthday and that if Robin Williams showed up to send him over so I could wish him a happy birthday too. I was 23. There was never a birthday candle for me to blow out without giving a thought to some of the men that shared my special day.
So this year, my birthday is going to be rather sad. No more Don Knotts, Edward Herman or Robin Williams to share another year with, even if it is only in my mind. Every day I will continue to live, for myself, for my family, and for those men whose lives intersected with mine in such a random way. To the families that carry on the memories of those great men, I thank you again, for giving so much and sharing them with the world.
Heidi