“Someone who does not live in your country”
It doesn’t say living or dead therefore I am choosing to write about Princess Diana.
When I was a little girl I remember admiring Princess Diana…not to any sort of extreme but even as I blossomed into a young woman I remember following her life. Unfortunately it was always on TV or in the tabloids…the same tabloids that drove her to her death and even before that gave her a life of torment.
I remember watching her wedding with my late grandmother in the wee hours of the morning and thinking how magical it would be to be “a princess”. Because doesn’t every little girl want to be a princess? I wonder if she dreamed of being a princess as a little girl, only to have those dreams crushed by the reality of what became her life of royalty.
Now that I think back to her life, as the bride of Prince Charles, it’s hard not to ponder whether she was truly happy on her wedding day. Or if the despondency of her relationship happened after that time. Had she ever even really wanted to marry Prince Charles at all? Had they ever been truly in love?
Regardless of her personal turmoil she always managed to look stunning in the public eye. She was an outstanding humanitarian and was loved by many. She loved her children and showered them with the gift of motherhood often. And most of all she never let anyone see her broken spirit.
I remember the day she died. I was with a group of friends eating dinner at a restaurant when the headlines came over the news channel. The entire restaurant was in silence and pinned to the televisions. The horrific reality of it took a while to sink in. The look of astonishment on every face at every table was an understanding of how she was truly loved by so many.