The death of beautiful, talented Natasha Richardson while on a skiing holiday with her sons is a tragic reminder of how fragile we are. I mourn this loss of a wonderful artist, as I’ve been a fan of hers for many years.
In school, as I study counseling strategies and learn the way we process grief, loss and bereavement, and explore cross-cultural difficulties in an ethnically diverse community, I am continually reminded of how fragile we are emotionally. There is scarcely a one of us over the age of thirty who doesn’t carry emotional and spiritual scars, if not raw, open wounds.
And yet we see ourselves as being strong, brave, and resilient.
But we’re not. Our bodies are not, our psyches are not, our hearts are not.
We would do well to remember our fragility in all these areas, and be good to ourselves, as it could all end in a moment, in a freak accident like the one who took this beautiful actress from us.
We need to be tender with one another, too. Just because my husband or daughter or best friend looks competent and strong and fearless doesn’t mean that’s the case. I better not compare the way they look on the outside with the way they feel on the inside, because I don’t really know how they feel.
Fragile, I imagine.