When the dream ends....

photo credit pixabay

It’s pretty hard to believe that today marks twenty-eight years since Britain and the world to an extent lost Princess Diana - known for her humanitarian work, compassion and sheer elegance.  

Her dream eventually became more of a nightmare with health issues such as bulimia and a marriage breakdown, as she claimed - there were three ‘in this marriage’.  We can see that clearly today with King Charles and his Queen being his former mistress.

The once fairytale-like couple had their divorce finalised in 1996.  This lady certainly held a special place in the hearts of many Brits as she highlighted various plights and struggles and always held her grace, fashion icon status and tried to move on from her previous life.

There must have been a lot of ‘what if’s’ but it was heartbreaking and shocking how the paparazzi hounded this beautiful soul.  Claimed as ‘an English rose’ the tunnel in Paris was to be her place of death.

Twenty eight years ago, I lived in Paris and as a coincidence was awake all night and heard many sirens - as is often quite usual in a big and busy city…. Near the Seine, I called my then boyfriend on Sunday morning where he told me the sad news and the sense of disbelief was not only my own but that of a nation and beyond. 

When I arrived at his apartment, near the hospital where she was taken, much to my horror the neighbours were going over to see the commotion and fuss and would like me to go too.  I politely decline and watch international news instead. 

I think about the book on my shelf as a child ‘The Royal wedding’ with the images of dresses and the luxury surrounding this union of these two people.

But ultimately she was taken and only thirty six years old. She is remembered not only as a Princess but as Lady Diana, the shy and innocent nineteen year old who won the nation's hearts as they followed her romance and budding evolution.