I love Liam Neeson.
The voice, the face, the accent, the intelligence, the whole package. Love him, love him, love him.
And I have watched from afar as this man I adore has made a life for himself with a woman he is obviously captivated with. A woman at least his equal - and maybe more. So today when I fired up my computer and saw that Natasha Richardson had been "critically injured" in a skiing accident, it got my attention. I like celebrity gossip as much as the next person, but it always feels like it's from a distance. This one felt a little too real.
A lot of my romantic fantasies come from Hollywood, as my love of Chick Flicks should prove. But it was a line from Neeson that I will always remember. Talking about Richardson, he said that she touched places in his soul he didn't even know existed, hit buttons he didn't even know he had. And even though I was appalled that anyone would choose to be married the day of the Wimbledon Finals, I've always followed their marriage closely. I know Hollywood is all about illusion, but these two sure do seem to be the real deal.
So tonight I'm following this story as it unfolds on the internet and my heart is doing a really slow and painful contraction. My own personal experience isn't helping much, since I have lots of mental pictures of people in the same situation stuck in my head. Working in a Trauma ICU will do that to you. I've seen firsthand so many times how things can change just like that - and it's terrifying. You never get over that randomness. Never. From the details coming out it sure sounds like a bleed - which can resolve itself easily or be absolutely catastrophic. It's all luck of the draw.
I don't often find myself in a position where I do my own version of praying for someone I don't even know. But tonight I think I just might.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Posted by the rotten correspondent at 12:02 AM