She was far more beautiful in person than one can imagine.  Far more delicate with a presence more regal than most of her film and stage roles.  She was quiet and alert, seemingly familiar with the world’s duplicities and exaggerations and on guard for their appearance—in others or herself.  One had no trouble seeing her as a movie star, but less trouble understanding her as a wife and mother—roles she embraced as callings and maintained with privacy, dignity and relish.

She was reared to be someone who could take on identities:  that of actor, or Brit, or woman of impeccable manners.  And she grew to be more:  a three- dimensional human being with indisputable ability to love and connect, a woman with more to her life than the celluloid pseudo-living that could have been hers.

In the video below, we see a touch of her terrific work, as she contemplated mortality a little early.  Who among us hasn’t had the thought that she deserved more life and her family deserved much more of her?  Who can turn away from the lesson here? To be alive is to be running through raindrops we can’t understand.  Be fully alive, be awake to the gift of being here.  Be here now.

For all you achieved, Natasha Richardson, Brava.  For now, a brokenhearted thank you and good-bye.

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  • Sarah March 21, 2009 at 9:19 am

    It also reminds us that if you suffer a head injury, you should always go to hospital and get checked out, even if you feel well. Natasha hit her head, so the people at the ski resort knew to call an ambulance, but she turned it away because she felt fine. Had she gone to hospital then, they could have saved her. There’s a big lesson there, folks.
    (Via Feministing Community)

  • Ericka Lutz March 19, 2009 at 11:55 am

    “To be alive is to be running through raindrops we can’t understand. Be fully alive, be awake to the gift of being here. Be here now.”
    Beautiful words. Thank you. What a sad day.