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Published on 09/08/1997 All articles from this issue

Princess Diana inspired struggling mom

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By Kerri Havnen Gordon

I confess. I was absolutely nuts about Diana. It was a closet addiction, something I kept quiet, along with my fondness for computer solitaire games and doughnuts.

Only my husband knew that I purchased magazines simply because her picture was on the cover. I read every article, and when I bought Andrew Morton's book, I was proud of myself for being able to wait until it came out in paperback.

As the years passed, I was fascinated that she became even more beautiful, more self-assured, more comfortable with the crowds and the camera.

For awhile in the mid-1980s, she and I had the same hair style (guess who copied whom?), and I was flattered when a few people commented that I resembled her.

I am tall and blonde and her age, but unfortunately for me, the resemblance stops there. While Diana was becoming the most fashionable and photographed woman in the world, I was feeling accomplished if I got a handle on my family's never-ending mountain of dirty laundry.

All the while, Diana was struggling, and I respected the courage she showed in public.

How was one to cope in such a stifled, regimented family? How does one deal with the public adoration, the cameras waiting for her to falter, those ridiculously high expectations, her broken marriage?

Her devotion to her charities redirected Diana's broken heart.

She embraced people with AIDS and stroked the arms of those with leprosy, and our perceptions of her and the people afflicted with those diseases were irrevocably shaped in a more accepting and caring light.

After her split with the prince, she traveled to the Taj Mahal and posed for photographers while sitting on a stone bench. With the imposing structure behind her, she looked small by comparison, but her back was straight and her chin was high. She looked lonely, but it seemed that she was gathering her strength and power.

She was not going to fade away or sulk in a corner, and I was proud of her.

I understood her when I saw those pictures. I, too, have felt alone at times. We all have, of course.

Though I may not be a princess or have visited the Taj Mahal, in my own little world I have gathered my strength and power, put on a brave face, and moved forward as best as I could. Diana showed the world how to do this, with style.

Diana's many struggles and gestures of a caring heart will elevate her memory to near sainthood. Perhaps this is because, like Diana and me, we have all struggled.

We have all tried to make a difference in the world. We have all persevered and tried to do so with dignity. We have all, at some time or another, tried to prove our good intentions.

We have all loved and been rejected, at least in a small way. We've all felt like an outsider and not known how to break our way in. So even though she was a princess who lived in a palace, we could all relate to her.

She inspired us, inspired me, to be more aware, to be more loving, not to be afraid of people less fortunate, to be strong with back held straight and head held high, to be humanitarians in our own communities, to care deeply about others and to show it, every day.

Her 16 years on the world's stage captivated and charmed us, naturally, but it is the memory of her incredibly kind and resilient spirit that will become her legacy.

Kerri Havnen Gordon is a Mountain View-based writer.