Diana

So today is the 10th anniversary of the untimely passing of Diana, Princess of Wales. Say what you will about her life, as indeed most people have done so (and been spectacularly unkind)…and yet I cannot help but feel a little bit sorry for her when all was said and done.

She never had a chance for a normal life. Yes, she had every little girl’s dream of a big wedding, with a white dress, marrying a prince….but how could she know at 19 that her prince was actually a toad (a tampon??). She was raised to be a trophy, with a very incomplete education, and never really encouraged to think for herself. She grew into a lovely, mature and capable woman…but she had to do it all under the intense glare of the spotlight reserved for British royalty. For this she has my utmost sympathy. The media, in caricaturizing her by trumpeting her affairs and her scandals and her bouts with bulimia, certainly sells papers, but (to me) does nothing to diminish her radiant smile, her charitable works, and her ultimate grace. I think both her sons are a testament to her skills as a mother, and a reflection of her love for them.

I have several magazines that covered her death sitting in a box in my garage; I remember exactly where I was…and I can tell you that, ten years ago, in exactly one month, I was going to start down a path that was wrong for me. In death, Diana finally liberated herself from her own wrong path. It’s just a pity that a life with such brilliant potential had to end that way.