Wasn’t the Princess of Wales like a brightly flickering candle at Christmas when she hosted her annual carol concert at Westminster Abbey?
She’s the person we would all love to have in our family at special get-togethers: cheerful, unflappable, beautifully turned out, great with the little ones, willing to muck in, clear plates and discard wrapping paper, play the diplomat in family arguments.
Just the sight of her, anywhere – reed slim and elegant, conker hair shining, always, always smiling – makes the world nicer, better, easier, navigable.
The news on Wednesday afternoon that she has been admitted to hospital – possibly for two whole weeks! – sent shivers down my spine. And then the disclosure that she is unlikely to return to public duties until after Easter!
January suddenly seems interminably long, and much greyer than it was before. I was walking my dogs and saw a young woman stop, and stare at her phone, mittens shooting to her mouth. I asked if she was okay.
‘It’s Kate, she’s in the hospital!’ Everyone in earshot rummaged in their pockets to find phones and to stop and stare.
With the King, well, it wasn’t unexpected news to hear he has prostate problems. But Catherine? I have a niece just like her: Sophie is 40, serene, beautiful, and had children when she was young. I had to text her upon hearing the news about Kate, just to check she was okay.
The news about Catherine made me want to give Sophie a hug. We shouldn’t take anyone for granted.
The shock that Catherine could be out of action for months isn’t in any way on par with losing Diana, but there is that same frisson of fear that if another bright light is turned out, the world will seem very dark indeed.
The news yesterday is a reminder that Catherine isn’t infallible, made of steel. It’s not true that nothing touches her.
It’s a reminder life is precious. I lost my sister, Carolyn, two weeks before Christmas and wished I’d seen her more often: we always used to get the giggles growing up.
She was achingly beautiful, had two sons, and worked in intensive care at the very hospital Kate is in now.
Come on, Lynnie, give Kate a virtual hug from all of us. We’re glued to the news, searching for clues.
And Catherine? She will be so cross with herself that she is making us all so worried.
