Rest Well, Robin. Second Star, to the Right.

Years ago when I was young, I got to stay at home alone (alone! by myself!) one evening when my parents went out. Watching one of my favorite shows, Happy Days, was the first time I'd ever been enchanted with the sparkling humor that is Robin Williams.

As one outrageous quip followed another, I laughed so hard that I cried. The worst part was seeing that genius episode alone, and then trying to explain what I'd seen to my parents when they returned home. My headfirst-into-the-couch attempts couldn't even begin to convey the hilarity. His portrayal of Mork the Alien struck deep, tickling my funny bone in a way few actors have.

After I graduated from college and left that town, I came back to visit friends and pick up some boxes of belongings I'd left behind in a friend's attic. My friend I stayed with was incredulous that I hadn't seen "Hook" yet. With a name like "Wendy" how could I have missed a Peter Pan movie? He insisted we watch it, so we rented it on VHS. I was captivated. Mr. William's portrayal of my lifelong counterpart brought new meaning to the fairy tale for me. I could grow up, and still be a kid inside. It was allowable. Now that I have my own children, the movie strikes an even deeper chord for me.

Ironically, in the movie "Hook", the character of Toodles clearly had lost his marbles - he kept looking for them. Inside one of the boxes rescued from the attic on that visit, guess what I found? The leather pouch with, yes, my marbles. These were special marbles. Some of them were antique, from my grandparent's time, carrying memories from my childhood. Some had been gathered along my journey. Along with Toodles, I'd also found my marbles. I knew I'd be okay.

In the early nineties I worked at a company that had me pack up and move to Toronto for a while. I was mostly alone, but bravely I explored a lot on my own. It was there I got to see the cartoon "Aladdin" on the big screen. At that time, getting to see an animated picture on a screen that big was pure delight, and made me feel like a child again.

The years rambled on, and I watched (and rewatched) and loved many of Mr. Williams's movies. I liked the funny ones best. I almost hated him for taking the creepy role in "One Hour Photo." I still haven't watched it. I didn't want to see my favorite comic as scary. His troubled character in Fisher King was frightening to me at first. But by the time I'd experienced enough of Life to see another man's demons for what they were, I appreciated his portrayal of the baggage we all carry.

"The Birdcage" might just be my favorite. So much willing suspension of disbelief - I mean, who expects someone's entire family to become a complete lie like that? But the way the characters weave together is endearing and comforting. That movie is one of those that pops up when I need it most. I hope it comes on again soon. I could use its comfort right about now.

When Patch Adams was being filmed in Chapel Hill NC my friend and I applied to be extras. Not getting the callback, we still drove on over to the set to see what we could see. I got to meet the real Patch Adams, and listen to him talk candidly about his philosophy of healing with humor. And I also got to meet one of my heroes, Robin Williams.

He was zipping around the set on his bicycle, and would occasionally come over to where we were listening, captivated, to Mr. Adams speaking. I finally marshalled my courage and stuck out my hand. As Robin Williams held up his bike with one hand, he awkwardly, almost shyly, took my hand. I thanked him. I told him I'd been following him since he first played Mork on Happy Days, and I thanked him for all the laughter. He was so humble. It was such a human moment.

It's so sad that someone whose gift to my life was so much laughter and comfort ended theirs in sadness. I keep reminding myself that the genius and creativity will always live in their work. I'm glad this man has left us such a treasure trove of his work. Safe travels, Robin. second star, to the right.