A Mommy Story

Damn.

I still can’t believe Heath Ledger is dead.

28 years old. Father of a two year old. Such a promising future ahead of him.

I’ll admit it: I had a fangirl crush on him. When I first heard the news, my chest felt heavy and my throat tightened. This is a sick joke, I thought. He was on my List of 5, after all, and earned his spot on that list from the first moment I ever saw him on the short-lived TV series Roar.

I had noticed that he didn’t look as put-together recently. Ever since his split with Michelle Williams, he seemed to stop taking care of himself. The low-key yet still stylish sense of fashion was replaced by unwashed hair, wrinkled clothing, and a worn-out, troubled expression on his face. Maybe he was depressed over his relationship issues. Maybe his latest roles had taken too much out of him. I can’t say. But the change was noticeable.

We all stop and gawk when a celebrity dies, especially if they’re young. But I guess this one is hitting me hard because he wasn’t one of the usual suspects. He wasn’t a celebrity party-boy, he wasn’t in trouble all the time, and he seemed like an average, quiet, down-to-earth type who just wanted to do his job and be left alone. You didn’t look at him and see another Anna Nicole Smith in the making.

At this time, there’s still no answer as to what happened, but it seems that investigators have centered on two theories, either accidental or intentional overdose on the prescription sleeping pill Ambien. I’d like to think it was accidental, because I find it so hard to wrap my mind around the thought that a man who professed how much he loved being a dad would intentionally leave behind his two year old daughter. And now that daughter will likely never remember those happy times they had together.

It sucks, and I am sad that I will no longer be able to see more from him. I enjoyed his acting and respected the decisions he made in the roles he accepted. But I’m also sad for his family, and seeing this tragedy makes me hug my two girls a little tighter and be thankful for each day I am here for them.

You’ll be missed, Heath.