Prince Harry and Me

I watch too much TV. I always plan to go to the gym but I end up on the couch, having a power bar, you know, to get ready to go to they gym. I am dressed in my work out shorts and sneakers. I “hydrate” with a glass of water, you know, for the gym. As I eat my bar and drink my water, I turn on the television. Why did they invent the remote control? When I was a kid, we had to at least make an effort to turn it on and change a channel. I blame my excess weight and sedentary lifestyle on whoever invented the remote. Flipping around, long after the power bar and water has been consumed, I take my sneakers off and plan to go to the gym tomorrow. First thing in the morning. For sure.


I happened upon a movie or a special or a something about Princess Diana. That poor woman cannot be left alone, even in death. I didn’t linger on it because I don’t want to be part of that energy that disturbs her eternal peace. I did see a bit of the real life funeral and I saw Prince Harry walking behind the casket. I changed the channel but the image of that little boy and his trauma displayed on the world stage, and my heart broke.


I am not a prince for sure. I have not even a 6 degrees of separation of any royal blood, but I am his kin. A child’s world collapsing from a traumatic loss is our common thread. In an instant, everything changes. I’ve often said that the day my brother died, the color of the sky changed forever. I wonder if the ground Harry had to travel that day felt like it was moving under his feet.


Childhood loss and trauma is a mental health issue and should be treated as such. Reaching out to hold a hand, take a walk, sit in silence, listen to music or color a picture is a powerful opportunity for connection. In a world where I child can’t quite trust the sky above them or the ground below them, taking those moments to reach out is the power of love.


Kids may need mental health professionals but don’t under estimate your power to be a guiding light.




I was a jerky little kid. My brother was always "cool."

I wonder what he would be doing today, had he lived.