Mother of the Bride

The hoopla, hysteria, and controversy surrounding Prince Harry’s wedding to Meghan Markle this weekend has been exhausting. Whether or not you cared, you were inundated with information about her family and speculation about the gown, the guests, and the gospel choir—all parts of a ceremony that was touted to tip royal tradition on its ear, as if the bride being an American divorcee of biracial heritage wasn’t enough to raise both eyebrows and hackles among the British aristocracy (and beyond).

Naturally, Ter and I got up at crap o’clock to watch it on live TV. Neither of us wanted to risk stumbling onto reviews of the dress before we’d seen it ourselves, though I confess I was more curious to see what the groom was wearing. He’d looked so fine at William’s wedding in 2011 that I couldn’t imagine him outdoing himself on Saturday, but he was, in a word, dashing.

Anyway, the gown was surprisingly modest, the guests were a pageant of taste that inspired everything from applause to oh-my-gods, and the gospel choir was riveting. From start to finish, the event planners nailed it. Poor Harry looked about to faint more than once; if not for Meghan holding him tightly by the hand, I feared his knees might have gone on him. I suspect the bride is generally more confident than the groom in any wedding, given that he’s a supporting player while she is queen for a day.

Not so on this occasion, though. The Queen was the queen and the groom a royal prince. That’s competition for any bride, but this particular one handled it pretty well. Besides, as the broadcaster stated, “She entered the chapel as a commoner and left it as the Duchess of Sussex.” A pretty good trade-off for sharing the spotlight on her special day.

What can her mother think of it all? This ordinary woman, a social worker from California, journeyed alone to the UK for tea with Her Majesty, and sat by herself while her daughter married the world’s most eligible bachelor in front of a gazillion witnesses. What in the world must have crossed her mind during the ceremony? Love, naturally. Pride, obviously. Some consternation, I imagine. After all, her only child is now a member of the British Royal Family. That must be like losing your labour of love to a corporate giant, though with this merger, you have to wonder what’s in it for her. Meghan’s life will never be the same, but Meghan will be fine. Harry’s family will circle the wagons to keep her safe—but what of Meghan’s mother? What becomes of her now that her daughter is a duchess?

I thought she seemed a little sad at times during the ceremony. She held herself with dignity and maternal pride, and though tears are expected from the mother of the bride, I couldn’t say for sure that hers were all for joy. When she returns home, leaving her child behind, what happens to her? Can she resume a normal life, or will every move she makes be scrutinized and critiqued, reflected back on her daughter and vice versa, for the rest of her days?

She raised Meghan to make a difference, but I doubt Meghan’s mother saw this coming. Who would? And as the Duchess of Sussex rides into the future with Prince Harry at her side, I sincerely hope that her mother can live in peace, unmolested by the media and/or opportunistic friends. I hope that she finds comfort in her community and joy in her inevitable grandchildren. I hope that her daughter’s destiny gives her no cause for stress or sadness.

I wonder if Doria hopes the same.