Natasha Richardson was buried today, and it's been a sad week for me. I can't explain how devastated I feel about her death. When I first heard she had been hurt in a seemingly minor fall on a beginner slope during a private lesson my interest was picqued. Next I hear she's in critical condition and I'm thinking how the hell can that be?
I've been skiing for many years and have had many spectacular falls. A couple of guys at Taos dubbed me the 'master of the faceplant!' I've had falls at such a high speed that I couldn't find my skis, poles, hat, goggles, and one glove. Falls like that are sometimes called 'garage sales.' I fell over backwards once on a really steep slope and slammed my head into a mogul - hearing a cracking sound that I thought was the sound of my neck breaking. Later I learned it was most likely the sound of my brain slamming into the back of my skull. I was ok, and skied the rest of the day.
I mention all that because in 30 years of skiing the only injury I had was a blown knee. My head's fine. Maybe I'm just lucky. So how can such an innocuous fall result in death? It really got me thinking. The more I learned about the accident with Ms. Richardson the more compelling the story became. I was rooting for her recovery, but, of course, it was not to be. Perhaps she had a pre-existing condition, like an aneurism. When she died I felt like I lost a family member - still do. I found The Parent Trap on cable and watched it, crying all the way through it. I blubbered my way through Charlie Rose's tribute to her the other night. The more I learned about the remarkable and alluring Natasha Richardson the more her death hurt. I'm so invested in this story. My kids and friends think I'm nuts. But the fragility of life, and the obscene way it can end for someone way before her time has me flummoxed. Why do I have these strange feelings, when deaths that hit closer to home have very little, if any, effect on me?
I guess the answer is - you never know when your number's up, so get out there and live your life NOW. I guess... I just don't fucking understand it.
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But you are right, we should all enjoy the momement, for it might be the last.
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The night I read about it, my 18 year old daughter was packing for a ski trip. Her boyfriend's family invited her to come along with them. She had never skiied before or experienced the beauty of Colorado.
My 23 year old daughter had just returned from a ski trip in Colorado the week before. It was her first time also. Instead of skiing, she tried snowboarding. She had a good time even though she came home with a hurt knee. When she had fallen, the sound of her injury was so loud that the person in back of her wondered what caused the noise! I am grateful that it was only her knee that she hurt.
Natasha's death and its cause got me thinking about all the the times my children or I have fallen and hit our heads. Over the years, I have felt a generous amount of "lumps," "knots," or "bumps" on various family members' heads, including mine.
Heck, when my18 year old was 15, she fell out of a moving car and hit her head! The CAT SCAN in the hospital showed a bruised brain from the accident. She was in the hospital for about 5 days being watched carefully.
Why did a seemingly minor bump on the head kill Natasha? I would like to know. Why did her death affect so many? I think it's because we could all relate to her accident in some way. I also think her death reminded us of how fragile life is. Last but not least, I think it's because we really are all somehow connected to one another. One action does directly or indirectly affect all of us.
@Mary: Thank you. I'm still wondering why this death had so consumed me. Had a similar affect, I was surprised to learn, on my sister and a lady I had dinner with the other night. BTW, I lived in Boulder in the early '70s, and still think of it as one of the great places to live. The Chinooks and the snowfalls are unbelievable.