As we watched our television sets in disbelief and anguish yesterday, immediately the thoughts of Britain were with Princess Diana's two sons. Only a year after the most public of divorces by their parents, they now have to come to terms with the greatest tragedy of all, the death of their mother. And yet the cameras have not stopped clicking. It is as if these people must live their lives in every household's TV room and on the front pages of tabloid newspapers no matter how tragic their circumstances.
With a backdrop of such unprecedented invasion of privacy, it is difficult to assess quite how these two young boys will cope with their mother's death. We read in our books on bereavement that the first stage of grief is disbelief.
And yet reality for these boys is the fantasy world of a devoted but incredibly intrusive British and international public. Their mother was the beautiful young princess who left the conservative husband and heir to the British throne in order to find herself through public acts of charity. They may still be wondering if the tragic words they heard their father speak to them in the early hours of Sunday are true. There is no military academy which can teach Prince William and Prince Harry the kind of courage they will now need to come to terms with their mother's death.
This is an unprecedented time in their lives. When death visits the average household, the privacy of the family is always respected. It is evident already that these boys must now cope with the most traumatic event of their own lives in the eyes of a caring but intrusive public. They will have to dig deep into their own personal resources to try to make sense of what is an utterly senseless happening.
And when the public ceremonies have been completed, it is critical for their well-being that they be allowed to express their grief and cry uncontrollable tears without a camera waiting behind a bush to capture their sadness on film. If these boys are not allowed to grieve with some semblance of normality, it could have far-reaching effects in later life. Some books even suggest that a young person who does not, or cannot, grieve at the time of loss can have difficulties forming attachments as an adult. This will not be a time for the stiff upper lip, which the royal family seems to be expected to maintain. Despite being the most famous and photographed woman in the world, their mother also appeared to be one of the most lonely. It is reasonable to assume that the only time she was not the glamorous people's princess was when she was with her sons.
At those times she was just a mother. Her children would have been the most stable aspect of her life. One can understand that the bonds of love and affection between them were not just close but vital for their survival in the public roles that their status as royals will demand of them.
This is uncharted territory for these boys. There is no research or precedent which will inform those who must help them to come to terms with the loss. When was there such a publicly-revered icon who yearned for that elusive state we call "normality"? And the more she strived for it, the greater the hunger for glimpses of her private life. One earnestly hopes that her sons will be treated differently as they begin the task of rebuilding their lives. It is regrettable that the process of adjustment will also include grooming them for a life in the public eye. As was the case for their mother, their every move will be photographed; their triumphs and disasters will simply increase the appetite of a voracious media for a harrowed expression or a joyous smile. If those looking after their well-being do not ensure that they are allowed to express their grief unconditionally and in private, one questions whether they will be able to adjust to what is a totally unrealistic lifestyle at the best of times. Dr Mark Harrold is a clinical psychologist.