Actress Natasha Richardson died yesterday after being taken off of life support.
I can not tell you how much this has upset me. I did not know her. Her last name was the same as my mom's maiden name, even though we weren't even remotely related.
Reading the news reports of the accident, she fell in supposedly soft snow, but got up laughing and joked about being klutzy, was checked out by the ski patrol and went back to her hotel room. About an hour later, she complained of a pounding headache and was rushed to the hospital.
What upsets me about this, is I can not tell you how many times I have fallen and hit my head.
In fact just on January 27 when the big ice storm hit, I fell on the ice and hit my head. I mean I am a first class klutz, and falling is something I do quite a lot, but I never go to the hospital.
Due to an old head injury and back injury sustained in 1997, I have horrible balance. Add to that crazy sinus and ear issues, I guess I am lucky I can walk. Just don't ask me to walk a straight line, even though I rarely drink alcohol.
I'm so sad for Natasha's family. Her children were with on the slopes when she fell. I will be praying for them tonight.
But this has really shaken me. Could my next fall send me to my heavenly home?
I'm not afraid of dying, but I don't want to leave my son.
Then again, I do have to remember that nothing here is in our hands. It's not up to me when I leave, it's up to G-d.
But I'm still freaked out!