It is hard to believe that we are coming to the 10th anniversary of the untimely death of Diana, Princess of Wales.
I, over the years she was alive, became a Diana-holic. I got up at 5 am to watch the fairytale wedding. I watched her interview about the end of her marriage, when she said “it was a bit crowded – there were 3 of us in this marriage.” I was watching Saturday Night Live the night the breaking news came on that she had been in a car accident in Paris but that she was okay. I woke up the next morning to the shocking news of her death. And although I did not know her, I cried. At the masses of people displaying their enormous grief in the streets of London. At the mountains and mountains of flowers left outside the gates of Kensington Palace. I cried all alone in the dark at 4 am, while watching her funeral. At the car carrying her through the streets of London, a note “Mummy” on top of it. At Elton John singing “Goodbye English Rose.” At the boy’s choir singing “Make me a Channel of your Peace.”
I cried because she moved me – in her life and in her death.
And now, on it’s 10th anniversary, she is all over the media again. Interviews with Princes William and Harry to be aired on Monday. A new book by Tina Brown. A concert in her memory, organized by her boys, to air on July 1.
And I will watch and read it all.
Because – she moved me. She moved a lot of people.
Picture from Vogue, 1997, Mario Testini.