Goodbye Ennis

It makes me feel a bit mortal to learn that a man nearly exactly my age has died. It forces the ponderance over the idea that I, too, could die at anytime. In fact, I could be gone tomorrow. There is a moment there in which you stop and wonder about your life, where it is going, what you've accomplished, how you would be remembered if, in fact, you were found in your house or apartment cold and lifeless with a bottle of sleeping pills next to your bed.

Of course, I am referring to the recent death of Heath Ledger, the Australian actor best known in the gay community for his portrayal of Ennis del Mar in the film Brokeback Mountain. I have to give the man credit for taking such a controversial role. If I were a straight man, I doubt that I could be so courageous, so sure of myself. It speaks to a comfort in his own sexuality, an acceptance of himself and of others. It shows a lack of fear and a direction we should all be moving towards in the vein of accepting the differences in all of us. His Oscar nomination in 2006 was greatly deserved.

His death hasn't struck me so much with grief (I can't say that I ever had any personal contact with him or knew anything about his first hand) as it has with a sudden sense of feeling my age. We were born barely a month apart in the year 1979, and I don't know that I could say that I had accomplished all that I wished to in this life if I were to be found dead tomorrow. I can't say that I feel like I have had an impact on this world in a way that has really made a difference. It's almost like a wake-up call telling me to get busy with my life, to get moving on trying to etch out some sort of importance in this world. If Heath Ledger could do all he did before his 30th year, then what have I been waiting for?

Perhaps this is a lesson in quality versus quantity as we look at a life that did not quite reach thirty years and yet was capable of moving (and entertaining) so many people. I first came into contact with Mr. Ledger on the big screen in Monster's Ball in which he played a troubled prison employee, part of a team responsible for death row procedures. He committed suicide in the film, unable to deal with the implications of watching men die for their crimes. From then on, I knew he was one to watch out for. Instead of playing pat roles in insignificant movies, he was playing meaningful ones in moving films from early on in his career. Privately, he seemed to keep his head about him, not appearing as the irreverent bad-boy of his generation like so much of young Hollywood these days.

Thank You Mr. Ledger. I hope that you know your courage is appreciated. We could all take a lesson from you.

Heath Andrew Ledger April 4, 1979- January 22, 2008.

(The LA Times story on Heath Ledger can be found at http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/asection/la-et-ledger23jan23,1,5320235.story)