Sweet Memories of a Time Gone By

All the current news coverage of the upcoming marriage of Prince William and Catherine Middleton this week must bring back to many people who are old enough to remember the incredible fervor surrounding the marriage of The Prince of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer.  I was in college at the time, attending Brigham Young University, and living in the basement apartment in the home of a sweet older couple.  One of my closest friends, Ruth, lived with her family around the corner from my house and we were all huge Anglophiles. The afternoon before the big day, a handwritten invitation appeared at my door, penned by Ruth's mother, inviting me to attend the royal wedding at their home that night.  Such fun!  I remember going to bed extremely early and then awakening around 2 a.m., getting dressed and then running full speed to Ruthie's house, where we lay on the floor in front of the TV for hours, watching the pageantry unfold.   It was such a sweet time, because of course, like most people, we believed this was a love match and I adored Lady Diana and how virtuous she was when she married.  These are lovely memories of so long ago...

Of course, over the ensuing years the whole thing fell apart, but I still loved to peruse pictures of The Princess of Wales, admiring her fashions and the warm way she had with people.

Fast forward to another memory.

It was 12:30 a.m. on August 31st, 1997.  I was lying in bed, timing contractions I had been having for the past hour with my second pregnancy, which were with my son, Robert.  My husband, Mark, was watching TV in the living room.  The contractions had gotten to be close enough apart that I went out to tell Mark that the baby was coming and that he needed to take me to the hospital.  As I came into the room, Mark turned around, having just heard the news report and told me that Diana was dead.  Utter shock and disbelief.  After waking our close friends and neighbors, the Langstaffs, to come over and watch our daughter, Sarah, who was 2 years old at the time, we got in the car and drove to the hospital.  Once in our hospital room, we turned on the television and watched news coverage until my labor became so acute that it was time to turn it off.  To this day, I remember so well the incredible jumble of emotions I was feeling at the time and whenever I see pictures of the crashed car in the Paris tunnel, it brings it all back - horror, disbelief and also the incredible awe and joy of having a child, all of that all at once.

One week later, I watched the funeral with my newborn baby in my arms.

Now, this week, the nuptials of Diana's son, William, and Kate Middleton.  It is great fun for many, I am sure, but I do wish the news media would refrain from referring to their relationship as a "fairy tale", which of course it is not.  I hope it all goes off without a hitch and that the son will be luckier in love than his mother.

But I cannot help remembering an earlier time, when my body was full of youthful vigor and my heart and mind were full of romance and I went running to a friend's house in the middle of the night to celebrate what I thought would be the wedding of the Century.

Love,
Elizabeth