She wasn't much of a traveler...

My late grandmother wasn't much of a traveler, as I found out when I heard that she had only been to one place in Europe: England. When she passed away, I got to keep 2 of her passports, and was surprised to see that she had been to London, England, at least half a dozen times. I wondered why, given the chance, she would choose to go to London again and again instead of trying different cities.

This past weekend, my question was answered when I visited London for the first time. It was a spontaneous trip, driven more by the fact that it was close by than a huge desire to go there. My admiration for Princess Diana is really the extent to my connection with the city. However, that ended when I actually reached the city of London. Everything about it is elegant and centered around the Royal Family. Everything from castles to churches to, believe it or not, mailboxes and trash cans, this city is a mix of old-fashioned flair and modern convenience.

I visited nearly everything a tourist has to see in just 3 short days. I saw Westminster Abby, Windsor Castle, St. Paul's Cathedral, the London Eye, Kensington Palace, and so much more. However, what had the biggest effect on me was walking along the pond in front of Kensington Palace, where Diana spent her year's as a royal.

Diana died at just 36 years old in a tragic car accident in Paris in 1997. Dubbed "the people's Princess" for her charity work, I have much admired her since reading her autobiography as a 15-year-old high school student, though not for the reasons one would expect. She herself dealt with depression and anxiety issues, and I admired her courage and strength in trying to deal with them, all while in front of the public eye. She was a selfless woman who threw herself into her charity work in third world countries, going as far as to shake hands with a man with AIDS. Even today, unfortunately, some nurses refuse to touch AIDS patients, even though they should be well aware that AIDS is not transmitted simply by touch. She was truly an inspiration to the world and died much to soon.

As I walked and thought about Diana and her contribution to the world, my thoughts drifted to my Grandmother, also an avid Diana fan. I felt so connected to her at that moment. I finally understood why she loved the city so much. Not only was it beautiful, but it still contained the soul of an amazing woman who died well before her time. My grandmother may be dead, but she is not gone. I feel her every time I read the countless letters she used to send me, or I hear my father talk about her. She is ever-present, watching over me. I've never felt more connected to her than I do right now.