A STAR ASCENDETH

I've been deeply affected by the death of Natasha Richardson. Any death is cause for reflection but to see this lovely young woman who had every physical advantage of beauty, was descended from a pretigious acting family, who managed to have a successful marriage with a moviestar husband and mother two boys, seems even sadder. She seemed to have beat the odds and been personally happy as well as professionally fulfulled.

Film stars tend to live large. We see them in an artificial blaze of beauty and priviledge. We sometimes forget, because of all the hype and glitz, that the death of a similar person, who is not famous, would be just as tragic, but that is not what usually attracts media attention.

Like Princess Diana before her, this lovely, leggy blonde will never live through her ripest middle years, will not see her two boys grow up, fall in love and find their path in the world. This only adds to the loss. Her husband and family will have to try to make sense of her passing and that struggle will be ongoing.

Whether I am feeling empathy or survivor's guilt, I made a mental note of the greater number of years I have been granted. Why ask why? The loss of Ms. Richardson caused me to sit this morning in the wee hours and just glance around my dining room while drinking my coffee. On the walls of this old house are momentos given family and friends: a Celtic cross by a college friend whom I have lost touch with, a silver shamrock from a cousin of my husband, a crucifix that was his mother's, a photo of our beloved deceased dog. All of these things reminded me that it is the everyday events of life, the human interaction of loving and sharing, that make it all worth living. Three generations of both families hang on these walls. None of us is glamorous, none of us had undue advantages in life. Still we all went on living.

As I think of Natasha Richardson, I am reminded that for whatever reason, I am still here taking up my little space on the planet and she, with her wit and beauty, is no doubt taking her place among the stars. She will be missed.

THE PERILS OF A CLEAN PURSE

Spring is almost here and I have completed the ritual of cleaning out the black leather handbag (or pocketbook as my Mom would have called it)I carry in winter in favor of a lighter, if you will, springier purse. I probably could win on a game show with the things I discover in the bottom of my winter purse -- I had the usual stuff like a lipstick with no lid, a stubby pencil, a few cough drops and wadded tissues. I also found a ticket, circa 1985, for one admission to the Empire State Building, a key to a beater car that I no longer own, a tag that certifies that I had our dog vaccinated against rabies in a city in which I no longer reside and a walking guide to the city of Florence, Italy.

Now, lest you think I'm a sophisticated traveler, let me explain. I am not. I am, however, a pack rat. Yes, this purse has actually been to all those places over a span of 20+ years. I have to say the purse is still in pretty good shape after all this time, other than the hole in the front pocket lining that allows any number of odd bits to slide through it into the actual bottom of the bag. When I root around in there, I find the missing lid to the lipstick, another lipstick that I never wear (probably because I lost track of it!) and a small bottle of perfume I bought in Paris in 2000.

I went with my spring purse to the grocery store and, of course, did not have my discount coupon -- it was still in the black bag. I went to buy knee highs at a discount mall and did I have my "Members Only" club card? No, I had several others from different merchants but not the one I needed. You guessed it, it was still in the black bag.

Over the next few months I will be able to identify all the bits that I need to function as a consumer in society. I will place them in my spring purse and go about my business. However, come winter, when I go shopping again I will have to explain to the clerk that although I have the coupon or card that she requires to ring up my sale, I have recently changed purses and don't have the blasted thing on me.

No doubt, she will smile and say, "I understand completely."