It could have been "us"

Today, a writer for Newsweek answers the question I've been mulling for the past week. Why do we care so much about the Natasha Richardson story? Today in a meeting, one of my colleagues said, "It could have been me." Just three weeks ago, this father was skiing bunny runs, yet his wife insisted he wear a helmet (even though he admitted it felt a little geeky).

Here are excerpts from "When a Young Mother Dies" by Susanna Schrobsdorff, writing the Society column for Newsweek:
"Her passing from something as capricious and random as a minor fall on the gentlest of ski slopes was so jarring that we couldn't stop talking about the how and the why. It could have been any of us. And when we learned that she waved away an initial offer of medical care after her fall, we understood. I'm sure that if one of Richardson's children had bumped his head she would gone to an emergency room immediately, and stayed for as long as it took to be absolutely sure that the boy was fine. But how many parents, if we'd taken a small tumble, would have looked at the day's plans and said, "No, I don't want to ruin everyone's vacation only to spend hours at the hospital over a minor bump. We don't have time. I'll be fine."
Source: Susanna Schrobsdorff | Newsweek Web Exclusive Mar 24, 2009

Before everything changed

I'm breaking the rules of my blog, writing about something that took place pre-9-11, pre depression, the world was heady and it was New York baby. It was the second week of January 2001 when my sister and I were enjoying a lovely dinner at Cafe Luxembourg on the upper west side NYC. Seated in a tiny booth for 2 at the front, only inches separated us from the next booth. At dessert, the booth became occupied by--well, two amazing actresses of two generations. Lauren Bacall and Natasha Richardson. Since I'm the pop culture afficionado, and uncertain whether my sister knew who these 2 ladies were--I somehow signaled, "act cool." Lauren Bacall, in true grand dame fashion, silently siganled, "Don't even." Yes, even after moi had read BOTH her biographies, including the one she wrote in long-hand on yellow legal pads.

Both were lively and kissed each other Happy New Year. Natahsa was bubbly and bright, and ordered a "wine spritzer." Lauren announced 2000 had been one lousy year and asked in a gravelly voice, "double vodka." I knew Lauren's ex and the father of her son Sam, Jason Robards, had just passed just two weeks prior. Double vodka made sense to me. Made sense to Natasha too, who changed her drink order to something more serious.

Can't help think of that time, when everything seemed hopeful, golden, happening, happy. I can attest that these two ladies lit up the room, and the electricity within 6 inches of their booth is a great memory. Who knew our worlds would change so dramatcally in the new Millenium? So it was bittersweet to see on the news tonight that Laruen visited Natasha in the hospital today. Somehow, that's comforting. God speed Natasha.