I've been really saddened by Robin Williams' suicide. I never met him, but appreciate how completely he shared his gifts with others, regardless of the apparently extraordinary price it extracted. And, while I don't suffer from depression, a very real and devastating condition, I can relate to the universal yearning to live a meaningful life and to make a positive impact.  I found some comfort in writing my own tribute -- which just happens to have come out in verse -- and felt compelled to post it here.

THE ARRANGEMENT

You have been bequeathed a unique form of genius: the ability to make others laugh.

For a time, people will adore you. They will take you into their hearts, and count you as one of their own.

You alone will know that you remain on the margin of their lives. 

After a while, their adoration will wane.  And others will appear, drawing attention away from you. 

Ultimately, people may not think of you very often, although when prompted, they will still recall you fondly.

But I must warn you:  this is an all-inclusive arrangement. 

And it comes at an extraordinary price. 

For every ascent you achieve, you will plummet twice as far. 

Your own laughter may be rare, your heart seldom light.

You will question your gifts and your value.  

You will seek many antidotes for your suffering.  None will be truly effective, nor last very long.

And ultimately, you may not be able to bear the burden of it all.  

Because of your generosity, you will ultimately sacrifice your own self.

He doesn’t even hesitate. “I accept,” he says. “Others deserve joy, and for as long as I can give it,
I will.”

RIP Robin Williams. August 11, 2014