I can't believe the sad news about Natasha Richardson. She was 45 years old, on vacation with her kids, taking a ski lesson on a beginner slope.
Not drinking and driving. Not jumping from an airplane. Not speeding on the freeway. Not indulging herself in self-destructive behavior like a spoiled, rich movie star. She was just a mom on the slopes with her kids, and now she is gone.
A guy I worked with lost his mom this weekend. She was making dinner and passed out, dead from an aneurysm. Another friend lost her mom to cancer on Sunday.
It's hard to know which is worse - the sudden unexpected death that takes your loved one away from you so quickly that you do not get to say goodbye, or the long, painful death that leaves you anguishing mentally as your loved one wastes away physically. Gone is gone, either way.
It hardly seems fair that my friends are facing the loss of their mothers, or that Liam Neeson and his boys are facing life without Natasha.
I had started a quirky little post about how my day started today, but in light of this cloud that's hanging over me right now, I feel like that would be a little inappropriate and disrespectful.
I sat and stared at the wall for awhile tonight, and this is what bubbled to the top. Hopefully the flavor of the day tomorrow will be a little more cheery and optimistic.
Good night, all.