Something for Natasha


Some years ago, the actor Sharon Stone was a guest of James Lipton, this before Inside the Actors’ Studio became too big for its britches. Stone was asked about her acting teacher, a man called Roy London. London died of AIDS, and Stone recalls being at his bedside as he was fading in and out of life. As London came back into his body, he said to Stone, “It’s so beautiful…it’s just so beautiful…it’s all about love.”

Because I don’t believe I have ever seen one of Natasha Richardson’s films (I don’t think so, anyway) and thus cannot speak authoritatively of what I am sure was a prodigious and voluminous talent, I am left to wonder this: Before she died, did Natasha go and come back as well? Could she have, given her injuries? If she did, did she notice the same endless beauty and love? I hope she did. Someone like Natasha, who was by all accounts well loved, respected in her profession and in the world, deserves all the grace and peace that Heaven allows. I wish all persons, be they friend or foe, such grace and peace.

I will say this, though. Last night, talk radio pundit Tammy Bruce took time out from her pot-stirring and indignation to pay tribute to Natasha Richardson, playing her performance of “Maybe This Time” from Cabaret, for which Natasha won her Tony Award. It was all I could do not to pull over on the highway and cry my heart out.

At times like this, Agatha Christie’s words ring like truth’s bells: “…I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.”